My Deathless Heart
by JustiniaKorax
Summary: My own version of season 4 focused on Damon and Elena. No sire bond, no cure, just death magic, zombies, and a villain based on my favorite villain from season 6 (bet you can't guess who ;) ). This story is a reflection of my forever Delena/Klaroline heart. Warning: my Damon isn't soft and fluffy. :) Lots of profanity and sexiness.
1. Chapter 1

_This story begins immediately following the events of 4x01._

 _My last story was so much fun to write, I couldn't resist doing another :)_

 _I think the tone of this one will be lighter, most likely._

It just required a slight adjustment to the left- There. He exhaled and rolled out from under his '67 Camaro. Sitting up, he glanced down at himself. Filthy. Grease smudges everywhere: his forearms, the pale defined lines of his chest, no doubt his face, as well.

He scanned the double-car garage for a spare rag and didn't see one. He did spot his black t shirt hanging limply where he'd left it on the edge of the propped-up hood of his car. After another fruitless inspection, he gave up. Fuck it. He grabbed the shirt and wiped his hands with it.

Just giving his car a courtesy tune-up. It was going to need it for a long drive. It was high time he got the hell out of Mystic Falls. Elena had made her choice, and, as usual, it wasn't him. Fine, Elena could be with Stefan, and he would leave gracefully and let those two to be happy. He had no idea where he'd go yet. He had no plan, just a burning desire to avoid witnessing their Happily Ever After.

"Damon?" Hearing Elena's voice, he started to stand, on the verge of calling back, when she skidded around the corner, long dark hair swirling madly around her face, and spied him in the garage. "Hey, I was – " Her voice trailed off as he straightened and turned to face her. Her eyes flew to his bare chest, still covered in streaks of grease, and her jaw dropped, heart rate spiking. Her mouth formed a perfect O, and she seemed dazzled, a fact that had nothing to do with the sun shining brightly behind her.

A warm sense of male satisfaction filled him. He liked witnessing the effect he had on her. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

Her mouth snapped shut so violently her teeth clicked together. She cleared her throat and wiped her palms on her blue jeans. "Um, I was wondering… I need you to teach me to control the bloodlust."

He smiled sardonically. "What's the matter? I thought Stefan was indoctrinating you into his cult. Not cut out for the vampire vegan lifestyle?"

"He is, and I thought it was working," she said slowly. She worried her full bottom lip and stepped completely into the shadowy interior of the garage. "But the thing is, I was in school yesterday, and I couldn't stop staring at this guy's throat. There was this vein in his neck, and it was just _pulsing_ , and then I was standing literally right next to him, but I couldn't even remember moving my feet."

Veins radiated out across her cheeks as she began to lose control at just the thought of her desire for human blood.

He took a step towards her, hands up. "Elena, hey. Calm. Breathe."

Looking horrified, her hands flew to her mouth. In a low, breathless voice, she whispered, "I almost ripped into him right in front of the entire class. The animals – they're not enough."

"Duh. Vampires eat people."

She spread her hands imploringly. "Then help me. I can't ask Stefan; you know how much he struggles with this."

Damon cocked his head, watching her closely. "Does he know you're here?"

"Yes."

He studied her for any signs of guilt. She was terrible at lying.

After a few moments under his intense scrutiny, she looked down. "He's not happy about it, but he agrees it's the best option."

He crossed his arms, and a few locks of raven hair fell freely across his temples. "Well, I'm busy. Go ask Caroline."

"I'm asking _you_. And Care's….occupied."

"Doing what? I don't think butting her perky, annoying nose into everybody's business qualifies as occupied."

She just gave him a look, the kind that dragged fishhooks through his soul.

It really irked that even though she'd 'let him go' – to use her words which had been cycling through his brain on an endless loop since the night Ric died in his arms and she'd drowned going off Wickory bridge - she still had the audacity to come to him the instant she needed something. It was even more irksome that he would trip over himself in his haste to do exactly as she asked, just like that, damn his black heart.

He grumbled, "Well, if you want my help, we need to go this afternoon. I'm leaving town in the morning."

Elena's eyebrows drew together in surprise. "Why? I mean, why are you leaving?"

He held up a hand and began to tick items off with his fingers. "Let's see. My best friend is dead. Klaus is no longer a concern, since you're a vampire now." He made a silly, inquisitive face. "What am I forgetting?" His features grew hard. "Oh, right, you made your choice. Less than interested in sticking around to see how the happy lovebirds fare."

"Right," she murmured, having the grace to look embarrassed. "Ok, well, whenever you want to go is fine. The sooner the better."

Damon advanced on her, and she shuffled backwards, eyes dilated, muscles tense, until her ass encountered the metal workbench attached to the garage wall. She grabbed it for balance. He stopped when there was maybe half a foot of space between them. "If we're gonna do this, it's my way, Elena. You follow _my_ rules, and you do what _I_ say."

"Fine, I promise." Her eyes dipped down to his chest, and her breath caught in her throat. He heard metal creak as her grip on the workbench tightened and she forgot to control her new vampire strength.

He leaned in even closer, and she exhaled in a rush, "But you have to wear a shirt."

He grinned. "I won't hold you to the same. If you're inclined to go topless, please feel free to indulge." Yeah, he was being an ass, and he shouldn't tease her like this. She was Stefan's girl, but he couldn't help himself.

And really, why should he behave? What had it accomplished? He had the infuriating net gain of zip, zilch, nada. For all his efforts, the girl he loved had still rejected him, and now that his departure from the one place he thought of as home was imminent, he wouldn't be around to face any of the repercussions for his actions. Screw being a good boy; all his incentive to behave was gone.

Plus, she was super adorable when she was flustered.

He probably should move, but he really didn't want to. The sliver of space between them was charged, electric. Less than six inches of space separated her lush curves from his hard lines. It would be nothing to close that gap. Nothing, and everything.

As if she could read his thoughts, she whispered, "Damon, don't. You're filthy."

Oh, she had no idea. He shrugged, glacial blue eyes growing heavy-lidded. "So, stick around and help me get clean. My tub's big enough for two." He raised his eyebrows suggestively. "I'm thinking a sponge bath'll probably do the trick."

Her gaze had been locked on his lips the entire time he was speaking, and now it snapped back up to his eyes. She smiled in spite of herself, shaking her head.

He took pity on her and relented a mere fraction of an inch, enough for her to wiggle sideways, ducking past him.

She turned to face him as she made her way backwards towards the garage entrance. "Do you always have to be so…" she searched for the right word, "impossible?"

"Mm-hmm," he confirmed breezily.

"I'll come back in a few hours, then, I guess?"

He winked. "You can come anytime you want; I'm easy like that."

She blushed prettily and scurried out of sight, feet scrambling over each other so quickly she reminded him of a cartoon character.

Walking back over to his car, he slammed the hood shut. He picked up his dirty t shirt and tried wiping his hands again in vain.

Her _choice_ wouldn't be such an onerous pill to swallow if he didn't know the truth. She didn't smell like indifference when she was around him. No, quite the opposite. She smelled like lavender shampoo and sunshine and desire. He could scent the sweet wetness that bloomed between her legs every time they eye fucked.

He also heard the way her heart stuttered and her blood raced every time she stared at his mouth. He noticed the way her hands clenched at her sides every time she had to force herself not to give in to the urge to touch him. She could hide none of these things from him.

He couldn't fathom why she would pretend to prefer his brother. A brief surge of resentment flared through him at the thought that she'd deny them the chance to explore whatever it was they had going on between them. One freely-given, glorious kiss in Denver, was that really all he was going to get?

Whatever. His eyes narrowed to slits. He'd teach her control and how to feed responsibly on people because apparently he was incapable of denying her anything, but he definitely planned on enjoying himself in the process.


	2. Chapter 2

"So, this is why you texted me to meet you out back."

Damon glanced over at the sound of Elena's voice. As usual, her beauty stole his breath away.

She was still dressed as he remembered her from that morning: tight blue jeans and a teal tank top. She had pushed a pair of sunglasses up on top of her head, and her hair looked artfully wind-tousled as though she'd been driving in her car with the windows down.

He, on the other hand, was freshly showered and newly changed, looking dashingly handsome – it's not vanity if it's true - in a black v-neck cotton t-shirt that clung to him as if it were paying him homage and perfectly tailored black pants that rode low on his hips.

He introduced her to the individual standing beside him. "Elena, meet Tilly. Tilly, meet Elena."

Tilly's real name was Chantilly Lace, and she was a lovely dapple gray mare. Her velvety coat was an amalgam of swirls of stone gray and almost black, white dapples and silver highlights. She had these lovely big black eyes that could see right into a person, and she was sweet as a kitten.

Damon had 'borrowed' her from a barn a few miles out of town. They knew each other well, as he was in the habit of 'borrowing' her or others of her stablemates any time he felt like indulging in one of his favorite pastimes. He'd been a skilled rider as a youth, helping his bastard of a father to break and sell the yearlings that were bred in their fields. It was one of the few reminders of his human life that he actively sought out.

Horses and women, he thought with a surreptitious glance at Elena.

She still stood there hesitantly.

"You're not afraid, are you?" He flashed her an irresistible grin, and patted Tilly's elegantly arched neck. The mare wore a bridle, but not a saddle.

"No, I've ridden before," she replied a bit defensively. "A few times. Have you?"

He gave her a condescending look. "I'm from the 1800's. What do you think?"

The horse bumped her delicate nose against his shoulder, demanding attention, and Elena laughed. "How many treats have you bribed this poor creature with?"

He stroked his fingers through the silky charcoal gray mane. "I can't help it that the ladies love me. It's one of the many crosses I have to bear."

Elena rolled her eyes, but moved close enough to stroke the horse's shoulder. "Seriously, why do you have a horse?"

"It's a lovely day. I thought we might go for a ride; see who we stumble upon."

She looked around suspiciously. "Where's my horse?"

"Oh, Tilly here can handle both of us." He shooed Elena out of the way by wiggling his fingers at her. Swinging up onto the mare's broad bare back in one fluid, graceful leap, he extended a hand to her.

She pursed her lips together mutinously. "I'm not getting on a horse!" She amended, "With you."

"Ah-ah, you agreed to do things my way, remember." He didn't ask it as a question, but stated it as a fact.

"Yeah, when it comes to learning how to be a vampire, not when it comes to riding with you on a horse."

"I'm pretty sure the promise you made had no such stipulation."

She glared at him, though it lacked any true heat. "Wouldn't it be faster to use vamp speed?"

He adopted a crestfallen air. "Elena, I'm hurt. I'm starting to think you just want me for a 'wham-bam-thank you, ma'am'. I thought we'd make an afternoon of it. This could be the last time you ever see me."

She wrapped her arms around herself and gave him a searching look. "Can I trust you not to try anything?"

"Get on the horse, Elena," he commanded with a jerk of his chin, re-extending his arm.

She grabbed his hand and settled in behind him, muttering, "I can't believe I'm doing this."

He grinned. Her hands hovered tentatively on his waist. He turned his head so he could catch her eye. "You'll wanna hold on tighter than that."

"I'm fine," she responded primly.

"If you say so." He nudged the mare forward with the kindly pressure of his heels, and the forward motion of the animal instantly propelled Elena against him, her heavenly curves pressing into his back. Much better.

Would Stefan approve of this method of transportation? Of course not. Oh, well, Damon had long ago accepted his role as a bad brother.

Stefan and Elena had both known who he was when they agreed Elena's 'best option' was to come running to him for help. _Him,_ Damon, in love with his brother's girl. He could never be neutral around her. She teased him. She confounded him. She set him on fire. It was impossible for him to pretend otherwise. It was another reason why he had to leave. In order to – _sigh_ \- respect Elena and Stefan, he needed to get the hell out of town. If Elena were within reach, he'd never have the strength to stay away from her.

They rode silently for a pleasant stretch of time. He kept one hand lightly on the reins, the other resting casually on his thigh.

There was the sound of teeth on metal as their horse chomped contentedly on her bit while slogging through a dense litter of leaves. He watched a murder of crows chase away a pair of vultures through the blue sky. Their angry caws lingered in the air long after they had passed from sight.

At first they wandered through pristine woods, but eventually they came upon a trail near the cemetery. Damon steered Tilly down the trail. Surely they'd come upon some unsuspecting people before too long.

Elena gradually relaxed the longer they rode. When he felt the point of her delicate chin come to rest on the muscle of his shoulder, he said glibly, "Penny for your thoughts, cowgirl."

She sighed. "Just trying to wrap my head around all this vampire stuff. Did you find it all so overwhelming when you first turned?"

"You'll get used to it."

"How long did it take you?"

"Awhile." After a moment, he added, hoping he didn't sound as bitter as he felt, "But I didn't have anyone to help me. If you'll remember, my sire whom I thought was desiccating in a tomb waiting for me to come romantically rescue her was actually out free as an evil, slutty bird and stalking my brother."

"Hmm, then, I guess I owe _my_ sire for going out of his way to help me when I needed him to. Thank you."

His lips twisted sharply. "Yeah, well, like you said, you owe me."

"What are _you_ thinking?" she asked him when he didn't say anything else.

"That you definitely should have gone topless. You could totally pull off a sexy amazon warrior-princess look."

"You don't have an ounce of shame, do you?"

"Shh," he hissed and held up a hand. "Hear that?"

"No."

He tapped his earlobe in a clear signal for her to pay attention.

She went deathly still behind him as she focused on probing the surrounding woods with her newly amplified hearing.

"Someone's nearby. Two people. It sounds like they're setting up camp just ahead." She pointed over his shoulder up the trail.

Indeed, shortly after, they spied a couple trying to erect a tent and start a cooking fire. A man wearing a bright blue wind breaker wrestled with long, skinny poles intended for a green tarp lying in a pile on the ground that would transform into a tent once it was put together correctly. A blonde woman in shorts and a pink t-shirt was using a lighter and newspaper to entice a pile of sticks to burst into flame.

They both looked up as Damon and Elena came into view.

"Wait here," he instructed her out of the side of his mouth before dismounting.

He zipped faster than the eye could follow over to the lady attempting a camp fire.

She stood and dusted her hands off on her legs. "Hello, can we help you?"

He graced her with the smile that had led a multitude of women to their deaths and snared her with his blue-eyed gaze. His pupils dilated as he compelled her, "Stop talking and don't move."

The guy dropped the poles he was trying to thread through the tarp and said sharply, "Hey, don't talk to her like that. Who the hell do you-"

In less than the span of a heartbeat, Damon loomed before the man. "You, too. Shut up and be still."

The man froze like a statue.

He returned to Elena, and she told him as he helped her slide off the horse's back, "Maybe we should keep looking, find someone else."

A dark brow arched. "Why? They're perfect."

"Because they're people who are just trying to have a nice weekend camping in Mystic Falls. They don't deserve to be attacked by vampires."

"What they won't remember won't hurt them. Snatch, eat, erase," he reminded her.

She squared her shoulders. "Snatch, eat, erase," she repeated like a magical incantation that was capable of granting the speaker fortitude.

"Which one?" he whispered, sidling up behind her.

"I don't know if I can do this."

"Yes, you can. Just pick one."

She didn't respond, so he told her, "I'll take you home and let you take advantage of our fridge full of blood bags if that's what you'd prefer."

"No," she murmured, then said more forcefully, " _no_. I have to do this. One day, I might be somewhere where there are no blood bags available. I have to be able to control myself when I'm drinking from the vein, so no one gets hurt."

He couldn't fault her logic. "So pick one already."

Elena bounced restlessly on the balls of her feet as she decided. "The guy."

"Excellent choice," he whispered against her ear. "See the vein in his neck? You wanna bite him right _there_." He traced his finger along the exact spot on her exquisite sun-kissed neck, and she started in surprise at the contact.

"Can you hear it?" he asked. "The blood sings – you can hear it in your bones. That's how deep the hunger runs. When you give in, it'll be the best thing you ever taste. Well," he laughed softly, "second best."

She turned just her face toward his like a flower seeking the sun, gazing at him through long lashes. For half a second, neither of them moved or said anything. He was lost in the darkly beautiful depths of her hypnotic eyes.

God, he wanted to kiss her so badly.

"Damon…." She sounded breathless and needy. Veins were starting to appear under her eyes.

"You can do this." He brushed aside silken strands of hair and tucked them behind her ear. "Just drink until you hear the heartbeat slow. The heart is the key. It'll let you know how much he can handle. Then, when you're done, you can compel him to forget that he was lucky enough to be a snack for a sexy vampire girl breaking in her brand new baby fangs."

Her head snapped back around so that she was once more looking at the man rooted in place before her. She was practically trembling with anticipation.

Damon placed his hands on her waist and pulled her into him. He took one more moment to savor the feeling of her body pressed against his before he whispered encouragingly, his breath a gentle caress on the skin of her neck, "Go get 'em, princess."

He released his anchoring touch on her hips, and she shot forward like she'd been fired out of a cannon.

With absolutely no finesse, she snatched the man's head to the side and tore into his throat the way a dog worries a bone.

He smiled to himself and moseyed over to the woman, one eye always vigilantly trained on Elena. But she seemed to be doing fine.

He indulged in some blood as well, but when he realized that Elena didn't look like she planned on stopping any time soon, he bit into his wrist, fed the woman his blood, and compelled her to forget that he'd ever been there.

He appeared beside Elena. "Alright, that's enough." He put his hand on her arm and tugged softly.

Elena growled at him, "Fuck off."

More amused than anything else, he said with laughter in his voice, "Come on, you're gonna be upset if you kill him."

His words seemed to finally penetrate. Her body froze, and her head came up.

"Good girl," he praised her. "Now heal him and send him on his way."

She did so, finishing her compulsion with an injunction that the man find a way to do something really romantic for his partner.

Damon rolled his eyes and led her back to their horse.

"So?" he asked when they were a good distance away. He grinned at her and opened his arms. "Thoughts? Impressions?"

"I did it! Oh my God, Damon, I can do this!" She threw her arms around his neck with a huge smile. The smile slowly slipped away as she fixated on the gore staining his lips and chin.

"I want more," she murmured.

It took him exactly one nanosecond to figure out how he would accommodate her. He tilted his head, exposing the pale skin of his neck. "Here."

She gave him a look like he couldn't be serious. But he was, completely. "I can drink from you?" she inquired.

If she didn't know the answer to that question, then Stefan was an even bigger idiot than he'd ever assumed. If Elena were his, they'd do this every day. Many, many times. Before, during, and after the many rounds of sex they'd also go every single day.

The skin under his eyes grew hot as veins pulsed and his fangs descended, lured out by the thought of sex and blood-sharing with Elena. Her smile returned, and she clasped his face, answering veins spider webbing across her cheeks.

"Do it," he urged. "Do it, Elena."

Because she trusted him, because she was looking to him for guidance, she obeyed him. She sank her teeth into his presented throat, and he closed his eyes in ecstasy. His knees grew weak.

Her weight drove him backward, and his back fetched up on the rough bark of a tree trunk. As he slid bonelessly to the ground, Elena rode him down the whole way, hands in his hair, teeth buried in his flesh, clinging to him with all of her newbie vampire tenacity. She straddled his waist, their bodies aligning perfectly.

He had every intention of simply maintaining this, letting Elena feed from him, because it felt so goddamn good, the sting of her fangs, the warm pressure of her lips, the steady suction of blood being drawn from his burning veins, but then she did this thing where her hips moved restlessly just the tiniest bit, her core rubbing over his aching hardness.

He didn't have the strength to resist – how could anyone expect him to be able to resist? He knew it was wrong to want her like this, but he did. So badly.

He gripped her slim hips and guided them through that motion again, and again.

Did he say he was a bad brother? What he meant was he was the _worst_ brother. Vile, depraved, horrible, loathsome. If Elena wasn't so distracting, he could probably come up with a few more synonyms.

He knew she was attracted to him, and he knew it was wrong to take advantage of that and combine it with the fact that she wasn't accustomed yet to the way human blood made you feel: a thousand feet tall, like you could do anything, so full of glorious life. It was a stimulant, an aphrodisiac, a drug that intensified everything. Elena had no experience sorting through what was real and what was part of a blood high.

But he didn't care. He was about to have an eternity to wallow in guilt.

Right now he was going to allow himself to be selfish with her just this once, because, ultimately, it didn't matter. He wasn't sticking around long enough to face the consequences of his actions, so who cared if he burned his bridges? As of this second, he was adopting a scorched-earth policy.

Soon, he no longer needed to direct her rhythm. She increased the pace on her own, and he loved every motion as she slid back and forth along his length. He wanted to plunge every impossibly hard inch inside of her, but he also didn't want this to stop. What she was doing to him felt sublime.

His hands were now free to roam, and they found their way to the generous curve of her ass. Hints of lavender and the scent of her arousal intoxicated his senses – _how could this girl possibly smell so good?_ \- and she burned like fire under his touch, even through her jeans.

Her urgency grew, and she began to slam her hips against his, rocking against him with all of her considerable strength even as her fangs stabbed deeper.

Jesus Christ, he was so close, and if she kept this up, he was going to completely embarrass himself. However, he did nothing to stem the pressure building inside. He was more than willing to let her take all her strength, all her urges out on him. He was completely at her mercy.

He held out as long as he could, but this girl did things to him, drove him _insane_. He bucked violently to meet the final thrust of her hips and growled, "God, fuck, _Elena._ " His eyes rolled so far back in his head he saw stars for a moment.

Abruptly, she removed her teeth from his neck and looked up at the sky with a gasp. The slightest 'Oh' escaped her lips, and she clenched the back of his head so tightly he was pretty sure she was going to have sizable chunks of his hair in her hands when she let go.

When he could focus again, he saw Elena looking down at him with huge, trembling brown eyes.

"Did you just-" she began, then stopped.

"Mmhmm," he rumbled from deep within his chest and reached up to wipe away dark red rivulets of his blood which were leaking from the corners of her mouth. She had just made him explode like a wet-behind-the-ears school boy.

Neither of them looked away or blinked, held captive by the memory of what had just occurred between them. The only sound he could hear was the thundering of her heart.

He waited for her to come to her senses and slap him or say something along the lines of _how dare you_ or _we shouldn't be doing this_ or _this is wrong_. But she didn't. She sat there, staring down at him, brow slightly furrowed as if she couldn't quite make up her mind what to think.

He desperately wished she'd say something or give him some sort of clue as to what she was thinking. Was she mad? Embarrassed? Guilty? All three? He couldn't tell.

Finally, her lips parted and she breathed his name. "Damon…."

He thought she was about to say more, or maybe kiss him if the way she was licking her lips was any indication, but Tilly chose that moment to trumpet loudly in fear.

The world rudely snapped back into focus.

He looked over in time to see the mare galloping away in a lather of flapping reins and wildly rolling eyes, her stormy gray mane and tail streaming behind her like banners lashed by a fierce wind. The sound of Tilly's rapidly receding hoof beats grew faint before vanishing.

Glancing around for the source of what had spooked their ride home, he realized something making an awful lot of noise was headed slowly for them.

"Damon, what is that?" Elena didn't sound afraid, just intensely curious.

The only phrase that sprang to mind was 'rotting corpse'.

Literally, it _was_ a rotting corpse, oozing black fluid in some places, blackened in others as though it had endured a brutal encounter with fire.

But if it was a rotting corpse, how could it currently be shambling towards them, unrecognizable face lolling in their direction? It definitely wasn't a vampire; it wasn't healing and there was no audible heartbeat. This was beyond injury anyway. It reeked of death, true death, not the magical afterlife vampires were granted. He'd seen a lot of weird-ass shit in his time – doppelgangers, body-snatching witches, even people brought back from the dead by the power of a magical ring - but never anything like this.

He set Elena behind him as he rose and cocked his head, unsure what his first move should be. Then he decided to settle on a tried and true method for dealing with unknowns: kill first, ask questions later.

He darted directly into the path of the corpse-thing and plunged his hand up through the ribcage and into the cavity where its heart lay. He ripped the heart free and almost gagged when it burst and liquefied in his grip. Black gook streamed down between his fingers and stained the pale skin on his forearm.

Ok, that was gross.

He was stunned when the creature failed to collapse to the ground. Very few things survived having their hearts snatched out, but this thing hardly missed a beat – pun intended. It just continued its creepy, lurchy advance.

Still in shock, he hadn't moved out of its way yet, thus giving it the chance to actually touch him with its outstretched limbs before its head popped off, and he was sprayed with more black gook.

The decapitated corpse thing stumbled against him. He shoved it violently away. It fell to the ground and didn't move again.

"Damon, what the hell is this thing?" Still no fear in Elena's voice, just nausea and disgust as she held up its head between her hands.

She'd ripped the damn thing's head off. He was suddenly so full of pride he couldn't find his voice for a moment.

Elena looked so fucking hot standing there brandishing the head of her first kill, mouth dripping with blood from her first successful human feeding, _and_ her first blood-share – definitely couldn't forget that.

His dick was instantly rock hard again. It took everything he had not to drag her down into the leaves and recreate what had just happened between them moments ago except this time with no clothes.

She tossed the putrescent head on the ground and shuddered. "Gross. Nevermind, I don't even wanna know."

He laughed so genuinely that he elicited a startled smile from her. "I think you just killed a fucking zombie."


	3. Chapter 3

As Damon strode under the archway up to his front door, the sun was gilding the horizon with a last golden sheen before shadowy violet twilight took its place.

The first thing he did after the zombie – just thinking that word felt ridiculous – encounter was to make sure Elena got back to the boarding house safely. No more shambling corpses were spotted, and he managed to successfully thwart her attempts at having a serious conversation. Fuck participating in another heart-to-heart with the girl who so easily and routinely crushed his.

Then, it took forever to find that damn horse, and where was she? In her stall eating her dinner. He'd scoured the woods for over an hour, and the whole time she was right where she belonged, having simply scarpered off home. Clever girl.

Now that he was finally home, all he wanted was to go upstairs, shower and change really quickly. He had managed to wipe off most of the corpse gunk, but he still desperately needed a clean pair of pants.

Once that was taken care of, he intended to leave before he ran into Stefan. He'd upped his departure time to immediately. If – yeah, right – _when_ Elena spilled her guilty little guts, he wanted to be far, far away, and if he had any luck at all, it'd be at least a century before he ran into them again.

Also, he needed something to drink. He was feeling a bit parched.

He slowly, soundlessly opened the front door. Beyond, all seemed dark and still. Easing the front door softly shut, he slipped inside, holding the door latch still so it wouldn't make a clicking noise in the hopes that no one – aka, Stefan – heard. He made it all the way down the hallway. His foot hung suspended in the air above the first step of the carpeted stairs when someone behind him said, "Damon, wait."

He scowled and planted his boot firmly down on the stair anyway. Maybe if he just kept walking, the speaker would go away. His time with Elena had left him feeling a bit raw and hollow as if his insides had been scraped out with sand paper. He didn't have the time or energy to entertain guests.

He took another step up the stairs.

"I need to talk to you."

Damon forced a thin smile onto his beautifully sculpted face and turned around to see Jeremy looking disheveled in jeans and a gray t-shirt, backpack slung over one shoulder and his expression way too eager beaver-y. "Baby Gilbert, shouldn't you be in school?"

"It's Saturday." Jeremy frowned. "And it's after six."

Damon's smile grew brittle. "Shouldn't you be _anywhere_ else?"

"I need to talk to you," he repeated.

Kid couldn't take a hint. "And I need to go upstairs without being bothered by little punks who shouldn't be in my house. We can pretend like we're some kind of talking buddies or whatever later, okay?"

"You seem like you're in a hurry, Damon." Stefan moved into view, eyes dark and pensive, arms crossed across his chest.

Tensing, Damon looked his brother over. Stefan's hands were empty; he saw no obvious stake. Hopefully, Elena had put off confessing to Saint Stefan yet. "Well, you know me, places to be." _Places where you won't find me once Elena tells you how she came writhing against my dick with my blood in her mouth._

"Why don't you sit down and listen to what he has to say?"

"Can't it wait?" Being in the same room with Stefan ranked extremely low on the list of things he wanted to endure right now. Elena's scent was all over him, way more than was necessary, and explaining himself to Stefan was something he'd far prefer to simply avoid.

Stefan inclined his head in the direction of the living room.

Damon's eyes darted between Jeremy's boyishly earnest face and Stefan's solemn, unreadable one. Oh, for God's sake. He exhaled loudly through flared nostrils to ensure that everyone was crystal clear about the inconvenience they were causing him. "Do I at least have time to run downstairs and grab a blood bag first?" His tone was incredibly sarcastic. He wasn't really asking permission.

"What?" Stefan looked surprised by the question.

"I'm thirsty." _Your girlfriend drained me dry – in more ways than one_. He wisely kept that thought to himself.

Damon returned to the living room with a highball glass full of blood and sat down on one of the red fleur-de-lis patterned couches, legs sprawled indolently before him, booted feet crossed at the ankles. Closed curtains and dark-colored walls gave the room a dim, gloomy atmosphere. There were some light sconces lit along the walls, interspersed between dour ancestral portraits, but they were few and far apart, not doing much to combat the darkness. Their light left his face half in shadow, so that he looked as tragic and beautiful as a fallen angel.

Jeremy sat next to him, and Stefan claimed a spot on the matching couch across from them.

"Alright, this better be good. What's so important I didn't have time to take a shower first?"

Jeremy scratched under the collar of his gray shirt. "You heard about the explosion at Pastor Young's farm a few days ago?"

Damon nodded once briefly. He vaguely recalled being aware of some such thing.

Elena's brother pulled a manila folder out of his backpack, dark eyes shining brightly with enthusiasm. "My friend April is Pastor Young's daughter, and she asked me to look into her father's death. She doesn't buy the accidental death by gas leak theory the police put out as the official cause of death."

A scornful smile tugged at Damon's lips. "And you just couldn't resist Scooby-do-gooding your way right into the middle of an open police investigation, which naturally led to you stealing the sheriff's case file."

"Like you care. I haven't done anything you wouldn't," Jeremy retorted.

"That's hardly reassuring," Stefan commented dryly.

Damon's hand flew to his chest as he projected mock indignation. "Surely, you're not suggesting that I condone stealing from the _sheriff_? Jeremy, that is just _wrong_."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Look, I didn't think there was anything to April's story at first beyond grief. I mean, I've been there, I know how hard it is, but this seemed kind of cut and dry." Jeremy shuffled through gruesome crime scene photos of badly burned corpses, autopsy reports, and pages of the Sheriff's handwritten notes, a word here and there underlined with a thick red marker stroke. "Twelve people gathered in a room with a gas leak that no one knew about. Someone must have used a lighter or a match and then, it was all horrible after that. But something happened that seemed like the kind of thing you guys would want to know about. The bodies…they're gone."

"What do you mean gone?"

Stefan clarified, "The same night the bodies were taken to the morgue, they disappeared. _Only_ the ones that were involved in the explosion. The police are searching for body thieves."

"But," Jeremy said, picking up when Stefan fell silent, "there's no description available because the coroner's surveillance footage for that night also went missing. Don't you find that weird? It seems like someone went to an awful lot of trouble to hide something that was supposedly an accident."

Damon scoffed and took a sip of blood. "So what? Someone stole all the bodies. We just got done facing Original vampires and ancient witches hell-bent on making us extinct. How does this even register?"

"Actually, only nine of the twelve bodies went missing." Jeremy corrected. "They left three behind." He handed some pictures to Damon. "These."

Damon slowly flipped through the three photos. All three corpses had suffered extensive fire damage, such that little, if anything, remained above the shoulders. They must have been standing closer to the source of the blast than the rest.

He flashed back to the scene of Elena holding the corpse's head, the unpleasant odor of decay and the revolting sight of blackened, burned skin standing out in his mind. The thing hadn't even been phased when he ripped its heart out, but after Elena removed the head….

His hands stilled around the pictures as an idea came to him. "It's because they don't have heads."

Stefan asked intently, "What do you mean?"

"No one stole the bodies - at least not literally. They got up and walked out. I think someone might be raising zombies. They must require a certain amount of brain matter to be reanimated."

Stefan smiled faintly. "Yes, because _zombie_ is the most logical conclusion to draw from all of this."

"Elena and I saw one earlier in the woods. There was rotting flesh and mindless shuffling. It was all very Walking Dead-ish," he said with a wave of his hand.

"You and Elena."

Damon's eyes narrowed as he glanced at his brother. "She said you knew."

"I do. Doesn't mean I like it." After a moment's pause, he added neutrally, "I trust everything went well."

"I gave her everything she's been craving. Sometimes, _bunnies_ ," he gave Stefan a scathing once-over with his hard blue gaze, "just don't cut it."

Stefan's chiseled features went pale with fury. The tension between them was palpable.

Jeremy rolled his eyes. "Oookay, anyway, I'm going to pretend like you guys aren't talking about my sister-"

Before Jeremy could continue, Damon snatched the entire file out of his hands. "Get to the damn point, Stefan. Why are you bothering me with this?"

Stefan took a deep breath. Damon could almost hear him counting backwards from ten as he summoned the patience necessary for dealing with his black sheep of a brother. "I know we agreed that whomever Elena didn't choose would leave Mystic Falls, and I appreciate that you're making good on your promise."

"Wait," Jeremy interjected, looking at Damon with puppy dog eyes, "you're leaving? So you were just blowing me off back there? You had no intention of ever talking to me," he accused.

"I don't know why you say that like you're surprised."

"You're a dick."

Stefan smoothly intervened. "I think you should postpone your trip, especially now that I know what happened when you and Elena were together."

Damon almost flinched. Did he mean- No, of course not, Stefan was just talking about their run-in with a zombie. "Probably not the best idea, brother."

"If you're right, there might be more of those things out there."

Pale, tapered fingers light on the rim, Damon swirled the remaining blood around in the bottom of his glass. "Big deal. They're slow and easy to kill. Elena handled it like a pro." Raising the glass to his full lips, he polished it off, already wishing he had more.

A rush of emotion brought Stefan to his feet. "You let Elena near one of those things without knowing if it was dangerous?"

"One, I didn't _let_ her do anything. Girl has a mind of her own. And two, did you not hear what I just said? Like a pro."

Stefan pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to recover his calm voice. "Whoever did this is involved in some dark magic. Considering everything that's happened recently, we should make sure this doesn't have anything to do with Elena. She might be in danger. People doing dark magic usually want her blood as an ingredient for their spells. I could use your help figuring this out, brother."

Damon's jaw flexed as a steady, resentful anger kindled to life and burned through him. He barely resisted the sudden impulse to slam his fist into Stefan's teeth. Why was this happening? He was leaving tonight, dammit. No way was he sticking around long enough to have another gut-wrenching, awkward conversation with Elena where the gist would always be that he was forever inadequate no matter what he did.

He sure as hell wasn't waiting until Stefan wanted to hunt him down with a vengeance and a stake because he'd made a move on his brother's girl _again_.

No, he was fucking done! They could solve their own damn problems this time.

Damon sprang to his feet with an ill-tempered, careless grace and jammed the file against his brother's chest. "Too fucking bad, Stefan. You wanted me out of the picture; well, guess what? She's _your_ problem now." He turned and stalked away.


	4. Chapter 4

Obviously, he didn't leave, not if there was even the remotest chance that Elena might need him. Anger made him say and do stupid things, things that he instantly regretted, and Stefan knew this.

So, forty-eight hours later, instead of making good on his vow to leave, he was still here like an idiot, standing in front of the door to his room and walking on eggshells under his own roof with no idea when the proverbial axe would fall. He didn't plan on waiting around much longer, either.

In those forty-eight hours, he'd neither seen nor heard from Elena. Big surprise there. Undoubtedly, she was avoiding him, filled with shame and guilt.

The front door opened and closed. The sound of Stefan's fading footsteps let him know that his brother was going out for the afternoon. Perhaps he was going to meet up with Elena. She'd probably jumped both feet first into helping Stefan solve whatever was up with dead bodies not staying where dead bodies should stay. She never could resist an opportunity to _help_.

He wondered if she'd continued to practice 'snatch-eat-erase' like he taught her. That led to him wondering if she was practicing _everything_ he'd taught her with someone else – cough, Stefan. The thought made his blood begin to boil so he banished it. Elena was pissed at him, he wasn't going to see her for a good long while, and it didn't matter anyway, because she wasn't his and she never would be.

He opened the door to his room and went in.

A dreamy golden glow pouring in through open curtains clearly lit the room. His bed was a sea of dark cherry red wood and white sheets, and right on the edge drifted Elena.

He stood uncertainly in the doorway, taken aback by the sight of Elena in his bed. For a moment, he honestly wondered if he was asleep, because this was how a lot of his favorite dreams began.

Her hair was long and straight, framing a pair of breasts that made his mouth go dry. Her sexy little red spaghetti strap top provided a bewitching view.

Once his eyes made it past her chest, he realized she was leafing through one of the books from his night stand.

She looked up, and he took the opportunity to study her face intently, searching for a clue as to what was going on in that pretty little head of hers. Was he about to get a scolding or a lecture?

Elena smiled sweetly, and something dark and painfully snarled inside his gut loosened. She wouldn't smile at him like that if she was truly upset with him.

"Really?" she teased. "The Iliad?"

He came close and snatched the book away from her. "The classics are classics for a reason. Maybe if you didn't miss so much school, you'd know that."

"Ouch." She waved a hand in front of him. Between her fingers he saw the one black and white photo of Katherine. "And this?"

 _Awkward._ He snatched that away also. "It was lying around. I needed a bookmark." He shoved it into a random spot between the pages and placed the book back on his nightstand.

He sat down beside her. "Is there a reason you're in my room and going through my things?" His voice was kind. He was genuinely curious to hear the answer.

"No." She looked thoughtful. "I mean, not really. I just needed somewhere to go."

"And my bed is the place that sprang to mind? I like the way your mind works." He wiggled his eyebrows at her.

She blushed and looked down at her hands resting in her lap. "Well, when you say it like that….Ugh, you make it sound so inappropriate. Don't _do_ that."

"Do what?"

"You _know_ what."

A light flush still crept across her cheeks. He wanted to lean across the distance between them and kiss her. Really give her something to blush about. He decided to behave and looked down at his hands, following her example. "Why are you here, Elena?"

"Stefan and I – we broke up."

The breath froze in his lungs. That was 100% not what he'd expected her to say. He didn't even know how to begin processing that statement. All thoughts transformed into static until his brain was one big echo chamber of white noise. Elena was with Stefan – it would _always_ be Stefan. How could this have happened? Then, he knew. How could he not have realized this immediately?

"You told him."

"No," she said quickly, "I didn't."

At his disbelieving look, she explained, "What happened…that's between us."

Okay, he could agree with that. "Then, why?"

"I don't know, I guess it felt like he expected me to be someone that I don't think I am anymore. In the end," she shrugged, "we just wanted different things."

He had no idea what that meant, and he was afraid to ask, but he found himself doing so anyway. "What do you want?"

Chewing on her lip, she stared fixedly ahead. "I think I'd just like to have a moment to figure myself out and not worry about who I'm dating." Suddenly, her eyes welled with tears. "I haven't been able to go back to animals. I don't want to stop drinking human blood." She told him this as if she were confessing some heinous crime and not talking about an intrinsic part of her new nature.

"Don't," he said firmly. "Don't even for a second let my brother convince you to feel guilty for being who you are now."

She was silent for a long moment before she remarked, "I have to admit, I thought you'd react…differently when I told you about…me and Stefan."

He shot her a wicked smile. "Ah, you assumed I'd instantly try to seduce you."

"Well, yeah, that is sort of what you do."

"I'm trying to be a gentleman," he informed her.

"Doesn't come easily, does it?" Her smile was cheeky.

"Hey, I can be a gentleman."

She tilted her head and regarded him mysteriously. "We'll see."

"Seriously, Elena, if you need something, anything – "

"Distract me." She flopped backwards onto the bed, hands clasped over her stomach.

Following suit, he stretched out beside her. "I could get you drunk," he offered. "Self-medicating with alcohol always makes me feel better."

Not even bothering to dignify that with a response, she rolled onto her side to look at him, hands pillowing her cheek, drawing her knees up so her legs were completely on the mattress. "Teach me how to give someone a dream vision, like you did for Rose."

"You're a newbie. You're not strong enough yet to get into someone's head."

"Then show me. Give me a dream."

He scowled. "It's not a parlor trick."

She fell quiet, and he wanted to kick himself for his sharp tone. He sighed dramatically. "What do you want to see?"

"I don't care. Anything. Just show me how it works."

He rolled onto his side so they were now face to face. They were separated by maybe two feet of space. He extended his top arm, palm facing forward. "You have to hold my hand."

She curled her fingers around his and pressed their palms together.

"Now, close your eyes. This is very serious business, so don't make a sound."

He took a moment to focus on exactly where he wanted them to go, and when they opened their eyes, he and Elena stood on a white sandy beach with lucid, aqua waters spreading out before them open and free. A blazing sun beamed down out of a blue sky.

"Seriously?" Elena gestured to the tiny golden bikini she was currently wearing, three miniscule triangles of cloth that did an excellent job of revealing pretty much everything. She happened to glance behind her. "A thong, Damon!?"

He shrugged. "When you leave me in charge, you end up in a skimpy bikini. I feel like you should know this about me by now."

Puffing up her cheeks, she expelled a huff of air. "I want to wear something a little more modest, please."

He rolled his eyes. "I don't know why you're bitching. You look… _fine_."

She crossed her arms and glowered. Suddenly, she was covered head to toe in a black and white nun's habit.

"There. Is that better?"

"No!"

Finally, a white cotton sun dress draped her exquisitely formed frame, blowing softly about her calves in the fresh, healthy breeze.

"Thank you," she said, still sounding slightly miffed. "Would you please prove that you can use your powers for good and not just to annoy me?"

He held out his hand.

She put her hand, small and perfect, in his, yet didn't come any closer. She took a moment to look around and appreciate the splendor of her surroundings: the azure tranquility of the boundless ocean, the balmy heat, the white sand like fine powder beneath her toes.

Her gaze swung back to him, and she froze like an insect trapped in amber, absorbing the sight of him in nothing but black swim trunks. "I thought we agreed you were going to wear a shirt."

"That's in the real world, Elena. Here, I can do what I want. _You_ can do what you want. Do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because none of this is real."

"That sounds like Damon logic," she observed, "not anyone else's logic."

"Do you trust me?"

Her hand tightened around his. "You know I do."

"Then you have nothing to worry about." His smile was dazzling, seductive.

He began to walk along the shore line, pulling her behind him until she fell into step beside him. They left behind fleeting prints in the sand that vanished under the advance of every gentle wave. Every now and then, they passed under the shade of a palm tree.

"So, where are we?" he asked.

"Huh?"

"We're in one of your memories," he reminded her. "Which one did I pick?"

"This must be a beach from our Christmas cruise. Mom and Dad took me and Jeremy on a cruise one year as our present." The memory made her lips tug upward. "We had a really great time."

"Definitely beats the hell out of Christmas weather in Virginia," he observed.

Silence fell between them for awhile as they walked hand-in-hand.

But the peace only lasted so long. He felt her shooting speculative looks in his direction. Several times, she opened her mouth to speak but instead merely sighed.

He looked at her askance. "Alright, out with it."

She peeked at him through long lashes. "I'm debating whether I should ask you a question."

He raised both eyebrows in an expectant manner.

"I was just thinking how we celebrated my birthday this summer, and then Stefan was MIA, off somewhere with Klaus, so we didn't celebrate his, but at least I knew about it. But I-" She paused and frowned. "I don't remember ever hearing about your birthday."

"I'm still waiting for some kind of question."

Her forehead wrinkled. "How come we've never celebrated yours?"

"Elena, after a certain point, birthdays are kind of stupid when you're immortal."

"Will you tell me when it is?"

"Nope." His voice was light but non-negotiable.

"Fine, I'll just sneak a peek at your driver's license."

"Do you really believe I'm the sort of vampire who'd waste a second of my life acquiring a driver's license?"

"Damon, it's illegal to drive without one." She sounded positively scandalized.

He rolled his eyes and didn't respond.

After a few beats of silence, she warned him, "I'll figure it out, you know."

"Good luck," he responded good-naturedly.

"Really? You're gonna make me work for it?" She sighed. "Jerk."

To distract her, he pulled her around in a circle, then into his embrace. He made a band appear a little ways up the beach. The dulcet notes of a slow reggae song filled the air.

They'd danced before, but this dance was different, and not just because they were in a dream world built from Elena's memories. This was the first time nothing lay between them. He wanted to look at every inch of her now that he could do it honestly, and he drank in the sight of her hungrily.

Initially, she was stiff in his arms, but he slowly, irresistibly coaxed her to relax with gentle touches, soothing her the way he'd soothe a skittish filly. His hands were full of wondering joy and disbelief as he held her close, letting the light, flowery scent of her silky soft hair fill his lungs.

She melted into him, the thin white cotton of her sundress the only barrier between their flesh. The heat of her body was a subtle caress along his, inflaming him with longing, and their faces were so near he could feel each exhalation of her warm breath. The hot blood coursing through her veins was a sweeter sound than the melody of songbirds.

Winding her arms around his neck, she stared up at him with a heated, sparkling look, the kind of look that made him want to kiss her senseless until kissing led to other things.

The swaying poise of her hips gradually ceased until they both stood motionless, flush against one another. Her nipples were hard little pebbles poking into his chest, and there was no way she could miss the hard-on he had for her.

She raised one hand to his temple, trailing her fingers through the errant black locks straggling across his forehead as the wind played with them.

"I lied earlier," she admitted, "about what I wanted."

She traced her fingertips downwards, hesitating at the corner of his eye, so startlingly blue in his pale face. "I can't stop thinking about the memories you compelled me to forget," she whispered.

Her fingers moved on to explore the sharp angle of his cheekbone, following along the hard line of his jaw before drawing upwards the tiniest degree to his sensual mouth. She traced the pad of her index finger along the soft skin of his bottom lip. "Something's … changed between us, much more than it ever used to be."

"What do you want, Elena?" he asked roughly. He knew what he wanted – her. If there was even the slightest chance that she might feel the same way about him -

Her hand fell away from his face, and she pressed it against his bare chest. Immediately, she seemed to realize so much skin to skin contact was a mistake because she stepped backwards hastily beyond his reach. His hands fells to his sides.

She cleared her throat. "I think I know what I want, but I have to be sure I'm doing the right thing. I don't want to be Katherine. I don't want to hurt you; I don't want to hurt anybody. I just need a little time. Do you understand?" She sounded almost like she was pleading.

Her question was comical. Didn't this girl realize that she could ask him to rip out his own heart and he'd do it without hesitation? If she needed time, that was easy. Ok, maybe not easy – patience and restraint were hardly his virtues - but definitely doable.

Mostly doable.

When he didn't answer right away, she rushed on, "I know it's so unfair of me to ask-"

"Hey," he interrupted, "whatever you need."

Closing his eyes and stepping closer, he leaned in and brushed his lips chastely against her forehead. When he reopened his eyes, he and Elena were back on his bed, lying on their sides and facing one another, hands still joined.

"Thank you," she whispered.

Reluctantly, he released her hand, and she sat up. Looking over her shoulder at where he lay, she said, "I should probably go."

He nodded once and rolled onto his back, arms spread-eagled.

She paused at the door and asked, "So, you'll be sticking around for a little while at least?"

He lifted his head up to meet her gaze, a crooked grin on his lips. "Yeah, I'll probably stick around - for a little while at least."

Her answering smile was seductively sweet. "I'm glad."

As she gently shut the door behind her, he let his head fall back down onto the mattress and stared at the ceiling with a rueful expression.

He could see this train wreck coming from a mile away. He wasn't completely stupid. There wasn't one doubt in his mind exactly how this would play out. Elena desired the thrill of flirting around with the bad brother, but inevitably, she'd come to her senses and run back to Stefan's sheltering, sensible arms - who, let's not forget, was going to be royally fucking pissed, to say the very least.

And when Elena was done jerking him around and the pulverized, bloody remains of his heart lay at her feet, he'd thank her for what little he got. Less than an hour ago, he'd been contemplating a future where he wasn't going to get anything at all.

So, he'd try to keep up while she played her little games, give her time and whatever else she needed. They'd see how successful he was at that. He wanted to be good _for_ Elena, not good _with_ Elena. He'd screw up. That was what he did. Elena would be provided with all the excuse she needed to return to Stefan.

 _Of course,_ a stubborn, foolish voice he was never able to fully suppress whispered in the back of his mind, _there's always the chance she might decide to stay with you. Maybe she'll choose_ you _for once._

 _Yeah, right, you're Damon Salvatore. You never get the girl, but you will take whatever you_ can _get…._

He scrubbed both hands down his face. He was pathetic. Twisted up into knots by an eighteen year old girl, and he wouldn't have it any other way….


	5. Chapter 5

An ear-piercing, blood-curdling scream rang out, the type of scream that made a person's hair stand on end.

Damon jerked, sloshing bourbon over the rim of the glass in his hand. With a curse, he dropped his glass down and zipped with vampire speed through the house to the central living room where he discovered Caroline in near hysterics.

"What is it? What's happening?" he asked, expecting to see a stake-wielding maniac swinging from a chandelier.

She pointed with a trembling finger to the fireplace, the other hand hovering over her mouth. "There is a _huge_ spider."

He stared at her incredulously. She'd made him spill good bourbon for this? "Really? You do still remember you're a vampire, right?"

"So? That doesn't make it any less disgusting!"

He stomped over to the fireplace and squished the hairy arachnid. Giving the blonde vampire an irritable look, he headed off to resume his pressing task of achieving a healthy level of day drunkenness when a funny gut feeling disquieted him enough that he paused and peered back over his shoulder.

Caroline knelt on the stones in front of the fireplace, constantly brushing the sleeves of her long, flowy white top out of the way as she stretched a tape-measure along the floor. Abruptly she stood, wavy blonde hair swirling, and brushed her hands off on her black leggings, letting the tape-measure roll up with a snap.

Was she measuring his fireplace?

She began counting the number of lamps. Why did she need to know how many lamps were in his living room?

She didn't, not unless it involved her walking out the front door, and she definitely didn't look like she was in the process of leaving.

"Why are you in my house?" he demanded, features screwed up in a fierce scowl. He already knew that he wasn't going to like her answer.

"Oh, no reason. Don't mind me," she answered primly, carefully not looking at him. Her voice was much calmer now that the spider crisis had been resolved. She scribbled something down in the notebook she kept stowed under her arm.

With a thunderous expression, appearing directly in front of her, he ripped her notes out of her hands. He wasn't buying her innocent act for one second.

"Hey!" she exclaimed, blue eyes wide in protest. "That is private!"

"You do not get to lecture anyone on privacy." He scanned the top page. "Guest list? Cake? What is this?"

Caroline winced, her shoulders slowly creeping up to her ears, lips stretching in a nervous grin. "Okay, so maybe Elena wants to throw you a birthday party, and she might have put me in charge of the planning." She pouted. "But it was supposed to be a surprise."

Dammit, he'd hoped Elena would forget about that. He shook his head once brusquely. "What? No, tell her it's not even my birthday."

"Oh, she knows. Stefan told me when I asked him for her."

He shot Caroline a look that said _Then, what the hell?_ even as he mentally cursed his brother's annoyingly spot-on ability to remember dates that he had no business remembering. Or telling Caroline so that she could tell Elena.

"Well," Caroline began slowly, "you know how Elena has a generous and thoughtful nature that's generous and thoughtful enough to even include a grouchy sociopath like you-"

"The _point_ , Caroline."

"Elena wants to throw one big party to encompass all the birthdays you've neglected to celebrate over the many, many years."

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard," he ground out, words clipped.

Caroline raised her eyebrows in a manner that clearly conveyed her agreement, but she stayed loyal to her best friend by not actually saying anything out loud.

"Caroline," he menaced, walking up to the pretty girl and getting in her face, blue eyes flashing, "under absolutely no circumstances do I want a party of any kind. If you and Elena want to throw a party, feel free to use the place. Knock yourselves out, but _don't_ make it about me. Especially for something so idiotic."

Rather than being cowed into submission as he'd intended, she appeared less than impressed by his threatening demeanor and shook her head like _he_ was the one being a pain in _her_ ass. Marching over to where she'd stowed her purse on a couch arm, she rummaged around for a minute. When she returned, with hand outstretched, she shoved the phone chest level into his personal space.

"What's that for?" he snapped, lips curling.

"So you can use it to call Elena and explain your opinion to her yourself."

He made no move to take the phone. Instead, he stood there sullenly, unable to summon anymore bluster. Imagining Elena as he had seen her last – sitting on his bed with a tender, gentle smile, luminous in a backlit halo of golden sunlight, so fucking beautiful she made him ache to the marrow of his bones - his resistance evaporated.

"That's what I thought," Caroline snipped, sensing his capitulation. There was a smug quality to her tone that he found incredibly annoying. She put her phone back in her purse and gazed levelly at him, hands on her slender hips. "Look, the party's not for you, ok? I mean, _technically_ , it is, but this is really for Elena. She's been sad lately and for good reason. Ric died, and _she_ died and turned into a vampire. The change is hard, you know that. Plus, things have been rotten between her and Stefan lately, though I'm sure that will all smooth itself over very soon-"

He cleared his throat impatiently. Caroline wouldn't make it out of here alive if he had to listen to her opinion concerning Elena and Stefan.

Caroline's eyes narrowed. "Doing this for you got her all happy and excited. She needs to have some fun, and sorry, but you're the perfect really lame excuse, so suck it up."

Of course the infuriating vampire came up with the one argument that would make him submit to this ridiculous idea. His attention shifted to the notebook he'd yanked away from her, and he began to inspect the pages more carefully, performing a thorough perusal this time.

"How come I don't see any strippers on here?" he asked, voice utterly deadpan but his lips twitched.

"Ugh, gross."

A name written in Caroline's precise script caught his eye. "You're inviting _Klaus_?"

She flushed a delicate shade of pink. "He did save me when the council tried to kidnap all the vampires. And he's _promised_ not to hold a grudge against anyone."

Damon snorted derisively at the thought of taking Klaus's word for anything before his eyes tightened suspiciously. "I thought he was leaving town with what was left of Elena's blood."

Caroline opened her mouth to speak and then closed it with a frustrated look. On her second attempt, she managed to blurt, "He _was_ going to leave, but then Tyler and I sort of weren't dating anymore, which I think may – and I stress the may - have had _some_ influence on Klaus choosing to stick around-"

"Wait, you're telling me that Klaus is still here _in Mystic Falls here_ because you broke up with Lock-wolf, and now you and Klaus are dating?"

Caroline's hands flew up. "Whoa, I never said we were _dating_ -"

"Never mind," he cut her off. "When it comes to teen/Original drama, put me on a need to know basis." He smiled hostilely. "Just so we're clear, I'll never need to know. Also, I don't want Klaus at my party. I don't even like the hybrid douche."

Scoffing, Caroline retorted, "You didn't even want a party a minute ago. Not to mention, you don't exactly have a lot of friends, or really any, so I had to pad the guest list. Give me that." She snatched her notebook back.

He briefly weighed the pros and cons of wringing her neck. Would Elena really be that upset?

Oblivious, Caroline chewed on the end of her pen. "Do you prefer chocolate or vanilla?"

He glowered at the inanity of the question. His hands curled into fists at his side.

She looked up to catch his response and then penciled something down.

"What's your favorite color?" she tried again. "For decorations and balloons and stuff."

He intensified his glare, flaring his nostrils and grinding his teeth until he looked positively murderous.

"Fine, if you don't want to have any input…." she said while making more notes.

Fed up with the entire situation, he stalked away.

"You better show up, Damon!" she called after him. "And act surprised!"

He sliced a hand through the air with dismissive finality.

The things he did to make Elena happy. This had better earn him a shit ton of points for good behavior.

Fuck, he needed a drink.


	6. Chapter 6

Damon gave his reflection in the rectangular, full-length mirror a cocky side-smirk as he finished rolling up the sleeves of his black button-down dress shirt which was tucked under a pair of perfectly tailored black pants. The top two buttons were undone, exposing the pale column of his throat and a tantalizing peak at the hard, lean planes of his chest. He looked devilishly handsome, and he knew it.

After a little reflection and a lot of bourbon, he'd decided that there were definitely worse things in life than sweet, beautiful Elena, the girl he craved, throwing him a silly party. In fact, it might even be fun. An entire houseful of people there just to celebrate him? Sounded… delicious.

And if this was a birthday party, then that meant Elena had to get him a present, right? Maybe she'd take requests.

Loud music and conversations filtered up to his sensitive ears from downstairs. People had been in his house for over an hour. Good, at least they had dropped the surprise bit.

His phone buzzed on the dresser. He picked it up and read the text message from Elena: _Where are you? Everyone's here. :)_

Taking a last glance in the mirror, he swept his fingers through his hair so that just the right amount of tousled black strands tumbled rakishly across his brow.

Dashing? Check.

Gorgeous? Check.

Irresistible? Check.

He descended the stairs, not quite sure what to expect. What he saw pleased him.

Caroline and Elena had clearly been hard at work. They'd gone with a red and black theme. Red and black balloons were everywhere, hung on the wall, strewn along the ground so that people kicked them as they walked around. A banner of balloons had been strung along the fireplace, which was lit.

The living room was completely transformed. All the furniture had been removed, except for the grand piano where a man in a tuxedo sat playing something light and jazzy. Several tables were set up in the middle. They had black table clothes and multiple trays of finger foods and sweets. On one side of the room was a Martini bar and directly across on the other side was a Whiskey bar. Opaque red vases filled with long-stem red roses decorated every open flat surface.

An enormous crowd of people, most of whom he'd never met, milled about, laughing, drinking, and chatting. Piano music filtered through the various conversations, and underneath it all, he detected a persistent, thumping bass, indicating there was more to explore outside.

He had to admit Elena and Barbie's work wasn't half-bad. Any party with a Whiskey bar was not the worst party in the world.

Thinking of the she-devil, he watched Caroline whiz by him in the company of several others. When she realized who she'd just passed, she performed an abrupt about-face and hurried towards him.

"Finally, you're here! Go into the kitchen," she directed, fluttering her hands at him. "The candles are lit, and everyone's waiting to sing 'Happy Birthday.'"

He froze. If she thought for one second that that was going to happen-

She burst into laughter, startling him, and clapped her hands over her mouth. "Oh my god, I'm totally kidding! I just had to see your face!"

The darkness of his eyebrows accentuated the thunder of his expression as they came together sharply above his glacial blue eyes. "I'm going to count to one. If you're still here by the time-"

She vanished.

He made a beeline for the Whiskey bar. A group of young, pretty girls giggled as he passed, and he flashed them an automatic flirtatious smile, but as soon as they were out of sight, he couldn't have recalled a single detail about them beyond their gender. All his focus was on locating Elena.

The bartender handed him a glass of bourbon, and he took a healthy swallow. Still no sign of her. However, he did spot the sheriff, Liz Forbes, as she entered, pulling the front door shut behind her. She looked completely out of place in her work uniform. He caught her eye and winked, and she made her way to him through the crowd.

"All work and no play," he chided. "I hope you're not here to arrest me."

"While I do think it should be criminal for someone to look as good as you do at your age, I'm merely stopping by to say happy birthday," she said.

"That's sweet, but it's not my birthday."

"Then why is Caroline throwing you a birthday party?"

He sighed. "She's your daughter, Liz. You tell me. Drink?" He gestured at the vast array of bottles along the surface of the bar.

Liz laughed. "No, thank you, I'm on my way to the station, and I need a clear head."

"Oh?" he said with a speculative look as he plucked a rose free from its vase and put it to his nose, inhaling the flower's scent. "Your late shift wouldn't happen to have anything to do with the incidents surrounding the Young farm explosion, would it?"

"It does, and I know you well enough to know when you're fishing. We can talk about it later. There'll be plenty of time tomorrow."

"Fair enough." He handed her the rose which she tentatively accepted. "Hope you remembered to bring me a present."

"My gift to you is not arresting everyone here for underage drinking."

"I'll take it." A grin stretched across the strong, clean lines of his face.

Sheriff Forbes departed, and he did a last scan of the room.

Where was she?

He prowled through the rest of the house, a sleek black panther on the hunt and only a certain girl would satisfy this hunger.

However, instead of finding bright, almond-shaped brown eyes and lustrous, thick brown hair, he found Stefan standing by himself, staring out a window into the backyard. For a moment, Damon hesitated, not sure whether he wanted to talk to his brother. They hadn't spoken in any depth since Stefan had asked him not to leave town, and he dreaded the thought of how any conversation about Elena would go right now.

The truth was that Damon didn't want to hurt Stefan. Sure, maybe once that had been his goal – an eternity of misery, the least his brother deserved for everything he'd done to ruin their lives.

But Damon had gotten over it – it only took one hundred and fifty years to learn that being linked forever to his brother wasn't the curse he'd resentfully believed. Rather, family was a powerful source of strength. The resentment was still there, of course, as well as a lot of anger – he wasn't perfect. However, those emotions were no longer the only, or even most important, emotions ruling his relationship with Stefan.

He decided to just get it over with, blurring across the room until he stood close enough to see over his brother's shoulder.

"You know you can't sneak up on me," Stefan said in a monotone.

"Yeah, but it's so much fun to try."

The younger Salvatore turned and regarded Damon enigmatically. He might have been carved from stone he was so completely still.

"Stef," Damon began, unsure how to put into words exactly what he wanted to say.

"Don't worry, brother, there are some things we need to discuss, but not here, not now," Stefan told him without averting his gaze. "My gift to you is time." He clinked his glass against Damon's and then raised it up in a mocking salute. "To another day. Enjoy your party."

"Not likely," muttered Damon at his brother's retreating back. He threw back the last of his drink, setting his glass down.

The back door was open, people freely passing through it. He made his way outside. Two huge bonfires raged in the backyard, dispelling the darkness as crowds of young people played beer pong and gathered around kegs. A DJ set up along the back of the house played the really loud, thumping music he'd been able to hear from inside.

He didn't see Elena among the revelers. Where the fuck was she? His good mood was beginning to dissipate.

Kicking aside discarded plastic cups and beer bottles, he headed for the trees growing along the border of the backyard.

When he spotted the back of Jeremy's head, he made a sudden detour.

Elena's brother stood right beside Matt. Bonnie was snuggled under his arm. A cloud of pungent smoke floated about their heads like a hazy wreath.

The witch noticed his approach first. Her happy face went flat. "Here comes trouble."

Damon smirked. "I'll take that as a compliment. I'll also take _that_." He snatched a tight, hand-rolled joint out of Jeremy's hand just as Jeremy finished lighting it up. He took a puff, nodded in appreciation of the quality, and, without handing it back, resumed walking towards the solitude of the dark forest.

"Dick!" Jeremy called after him. In response, Damon waved lazily with the hand holding the confiscated joint. He was looking out for the kid's health.

Once beyond the boundary of the forest, he found a tree thick enough to recline against without being seen from the other side.

Almost full, the moon hung in the clear sky like a heavy, swollen eye. Silvery-white light filtered down through the bare canopy of branches.

As he took another hit from the joint, he pulled his phone out so he could use it to text Elena. Before he finished, his ears picked up the soft rhythm of a heart nearby, inaudible to anyone who wasn't a vampire. Looking to his left, he saw Elena. He heard her heart rate spike as their gaze met. He returned his phone to his pocket.

"Hey." A dimpled smile graced her pretty heart-shaped face.

"Hey," he responded softly.

She was clad in a white sleeveless top that fit snugly across her breasts, falling loosely to her waist, the end trimmed with lace. A wonderfully tight pair of jean shorts stopped just where the curve of her ass began, revealing the whole glorious length of her shapely legs. On her feet, she wore ankle-height brown leather boots. Her hair was straight, a dark curtain falling halfway down her back, and the only adornments she wore were a silver chain with a circular red stone pendant around her neck and her lapis lazuli daylight ring.

She was beautiful beyond words, effortlessly sexy, and he reminded himself not to screw this up.

It was stupid to get his hopes up, since this was all probably some temporary insanity on her part caused by the stress and emotional imbalance of transitioning into a vampire, and who knew how long it would last, but he couldn't help it. He wanted her so much.

"I come bearing Jello shots." She extended a paper cup full of a vivid red substance.

He accepted it and grinned. "I knew there was a reason I put up with you." Downing it, he crushed the paper cup in his fist. When he acted like he was about to toss it onto the ground, she _tched_ at him and held out her hand.

"I'll take that," she said, slipping the trash into her back pocket, presumably so she could throw it away later in an actual trashcan.

Elena had just become a murderous vampire, and she was still concerned about littering. Could she be any cuter?

After she swallowed her shot, he offered her the last little bit of the joint.

Surprisingly, she took a hit, exhaling smoke. It made her sputter and start hacking.

He leaned over. "I didn't actually expect you to smoke that."

"Then you shouldn't have offered," she replied, handing it back to him, still trying to stop coughing and catch her breath.

"Gentleman, remember?"

In companionable silence, they passed the joint back and forth, Elena breaking into coughing fits every now and then.

From the way her breasts bounced with each cough, he knew they were unbound. He couldn't stop himself from imagining the way they'd bounce while she was on top riding him hard and fast or while he thrust over her, pounding into her for all he was worth. He shifted minutely against the tree as his pants grew several sizes too small.

Giving him an affectionate smile, she asked, "So, on a scale of one to ten, how much do you hate your party?"

It was on the tip of his tongue to say something caustic, but he stopped himself. He had no desire to erase that smile off her face. "I don't _hate_ my party."

"Then why are you hiding out here?"

"Not hiding. Looking for someone," he gently corrected her.

"In the woods?"

"What can I say? Playing hard to get's kind of her thing," he drawled.

Elena smiled in acknowledgement of his light-hearted jab. "She sounds horrible."

"That depends." He flicked the end of the joint away.

"On what?"

"On what present she's giving me."

She ran a hand through her glossy dark hair, pushing it behind her ear. "You're really hard to shop for."

"Mmm, the vampire who already has everything: good looks, charm, impeccable style. I see your dilemma."

She rolled her eyes fondly. "Yeah, something like that."

"So, what is it?" he prompted when she didn't immediately elaborate.

"I'd rather just give it to you when we get back inside." Her slight smile was as fragile as spun glass. "Do you mind waiting?"

This girl was going to kill him. "You're so mean to me. At least give me a hint," he asked.

"You'll like it," she said evasively. "But there is something I can give you now. It's small," she warned. She slipped a hand into her back pocket –the one without the Jello shot cups– and when her hand reemerged, there was a photo strip in it, three pictures one on top of the other, like the kind of photos that get taken at photo booths. It was bent in half and she slowly unfolded it.

He reached out, tugged it out of her fingers, and turned it around so he could see it. The top photo showed Elena and Caroline sitting next to one another, making silly kissy faces at the camera. The middle photo was just Elena with a sweet, sincere smile. In the last one, Elena's smile had turned mischievous, and one hand was tugging at the spaghetti strap of her top as if she were about to pull it down.

Elena blushed. "I thought you could use it as a bookmark. That way you don't have to use Katherine's picture."

He glanced up at her. Was she jealous? Why did she even remember that or pay it any attention?

She misinterpreted the look on his face. "You're laughing at me." She made a grab for it. He was faster, and she came up empty-handed. "Give it back!"

"Nope." He straightened, continuing to dodge her attempts to wrest the pictures from him.

"Damon, seriously, come on, give it back. It's stupid." This time when she lunged at him, he didn't move, just lifted his hand overhead. Her body collided with his, and the alluring fragrance of lavender mingling with the heady perfume of her desire suffused his senses. Every muscle in his body tightened with want.

"Not even close," he whispered against her ear. While she was distracted by his proximity, he slipped the photo strip into his back pocket. His gaze grew heavy-lidded, his voice low. "Mine now."

"Damon…" she pleaded, looking up at him with wide, clear brown eyes, hands tightening on his biceps. He knew exactly what she was asking for now, and it wasn't that he return her present. Rather, she didn't have the strength to fight this maddening tension between them, so she was begging _him_ to do it, to pull away, to put some distance between them so they could _think_.

Well, he didn't want to. The restraint that Elena had asked for was warring with a need that raged through him like wildfire, and it was rapidly losing. Yeah, he'd sort of promised to behave, but dammit, he didn't really do celibacy. If Elena wanted to date a monk, she was hanging out with the wrong Salvatore.

He stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. "But it's my birthday."

"You said birthdays are stupid."

"I don't know if those were my _exact_ words-"

Her pink lips touched his lightly, silencing him. When she broke away with a wicked lick against the seam of his mouth, lust surged through him in a dizzying spiral.

Drawing back, she appeared slightly shocked by her boldness. Her gaze quickly dropped to the ground.

"Elena," he said, reeling from just that brief taste. He desperately tried to think of what to say to soothe her, to prevent her from completely pulling away.

The sound of his voice electrified her. Her eyes snapped to his mouth. She grabbed both sides of the open neck of his black dress shirt and jerked him to her. She slammed her mouth hard enough against his to leave bruises.

Hello, now this was a kiss. It was a delving, exploring, devouring kiss. There was tongue and the delicious heat of her mouth and the musky taste of pot and the sweetness that was all Elena.

God, this girl made him completely crazed, tormented him beyond all reason.

He hadn't kissed her since the night in Denver at a motel, but not a day went by that he didn't relive it – imagine where things might have led if her kid brother hadn't cock-blocked him. Maybe now he'd find out.

Her arms wound around his neck as she deepened the kiss. He quickly took control from her, gripping her ass tightly with both hands, molding her against him. She met every thrust of his tongue, rubbing her hips against him shamelessly.

The sensation of her breasts pressing into his chest was divine. He remembered the way they'd moved freely under Elena's loose top, and he had to touch one.

It was a simple task for his hand to snake its way under the hem of her shirt, sliding up soft tan skin until his thumb brushed the underside of her breast.

Making a small sound in her throat, Elena nipped his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. While she sucked greedily at the wound, he roughly palmed her firm, perky breast, a perfect handful and then some, tugging firmly on the swollen peak with thumb and forefinger.

She hissed out a breath, and the way her fingers tangled themselves through his hair, fingernails raking his scalp, communicated her approval. He was reminded how fierce and sexy she'd been taking blood and her pleasure from him that day in the woods, and the memory made him growl against her mouth.

Still forcefully kneading her breast, he scattered kisses along her jaw and down the elegant arch of her neck onto a smooth, warm shoulder.

Just beneath her golden brown skin, he could hear her blood racing past, fluttering madly against his lips. He imagined how she'd taste: rich, silky, wild like a tempest, hot like a fever.

Overwhelming impulses rode him hard, and he was on the verge of asking – no, _begging_ – her to let him have a taste when Caroline's unwelcome voice intruded through his amorous haze.

"Elena Gilbert!"

Elena ripped herself out of his embrace, and the shock of her abrupt separation vibrated through him. He couldn't completely suppress the hurt look that evoked. She'd jumped away as though he were a leper.

He made sure there was nothing but fury on his face when he turned around.

Caroline stood there, hands on her hips. "Seriously?"

The only person possibly more annoying than Caroline stood beside her: Klaus.

Damon growled, "I swear to god, if you don't move your ass along-"

"Watch your tongue, mate," Klaus warned.

Damon smiled cruelly, totally willing to sublimate his frustrated lust into the rage needed for a physical brawl. Even if it was against Klaus, which meant Damon would surely get his ass handed to him.

Stefan's voice cut through his anger. "What is everyone doing out here? Is Jeremy with you?"

No one said anything.

"Has anyone seen him recently?" He glanced around, suddenly sensing the tension. "What's going on?"

Still no one spoke. Damon held his peace only because of Elena.

"Would anybody like to start talking?" Stefan asked.

"I haven't seen him in a while," Elena said in a falsely bright tone, "but I'll help you look for him." Damon watched her and Stefan walk back to the party.

Well, this hadn't ended the way he'd hoped. He adjusted his shirt and turned towards the house, intending to go inside and get a hell of a lot drunker.

Caroline darted in front of him, but Klaus moved with her and grabbed a hold of an elbow, preventing her from getting close enough to shove her index finger into Damon's chest, luckily for her. It did not however prevent her from speaking. "You have some nerve, Damon. She _just_ broke up with Stefan-"

"Easy, love," Klaus counseled her, "don't make a scene. It's his party. If the birthday boy wants a kiss, then let him have a kiss."

"That was way more than a kiss!" She flapped her arms angrily.

Damon crossed his arms and really looked at the couple. Caroline's lipstick was smudged, and a significant number of buttons on Klaus's shirt were undone. He furrowed his brows, pretending to be puzzled. "Gee, Blondie, just out of curiosity, why exactly are you and Klaus out here in the middle of the woods?"

Klaus smiled without showing his teeth and stared tactfully at some unknown point in the distance.

Caroline aimed a poisonous glance at the Original before transferring it Damon's way. "That is not – _we_ were not-" She drew herself up and her bosom swelled. "That is none of your business, and you are not changing the subject! We are talking about you and the fact that you are taking advantage of Elena!"

A breath away from tearing Caroline a new one, multiple screams cut through the night and stayed his tongue. They clearly originated from the direction of the party. Both he and Caroline slung accusing glares at Klaus.

"Don't look at me," the elder vampire protested with injured innocence.

"Then, what-" Caroline started.

Thinking of Elena, Damon wasn't willing to wait for Caroline to finish her question, and he sped back to the boarding house. When he reached the edge of the woods, he froze at the scene unfolding before him, trying to make sense of it. Klaus and Caroline arrived seconds later next to him, also paralyzed by the scene of utter chaos.

The backyard resembled a beehive that had been kicked over. The air buzzed with a cacophony of hysterical voices as people ran frantically in all directions, not sure what was going on, not sure where was safe. Amidst the shouting, panicked crowd, walking corpses just like the one Damon and Elena had encountered lurched haphazardly after anyone careless enough to run near them. Every now and then, they managed to catch someone, biting and tearing into them with a mindless hunger.

"My party," Caroline gasped softly in meek indignation.

Immediately, Damon scanned the area for Elena, hoping she was still with Stefan who would keep her safe. Maybe that was why he was the only one who saw the dark form staggering through the trees right at Caroline who was oblivious to everything but the distressing sight of her ruined party.

"Move!" he snarled, shoving Caroline hard enough to knock her to the ground. She squealed, and the zombie he'd jumped in front of snapped its dull, rotted teeth into his upper arm with alarming force.

Holy fucking hell, that hurt!

Klaus materialized behind the zombie and yanked the heart out through its back. Unphased, it continued to chow down on Damon's bicep.

"Head," Damon gasped in pain, "go for the head."

The Original made short work of the animated corpse, and Damon had the joy of experiencing a zombie's teeth being yanked out of his arm.

"Are you alright?" he heard Klaus asking Caroline.

Damon didn't wait around to find out her answer. In the next instant, he kicked back into high gear, leaving Klaus and Caroline so he could find and protect Elena.

He discovered her hovering over Jeremy. Her brother lay on the ground vociferously protesting that he was alright and trying to rise, but Elena, and Bonnie on the other side, were preventing him.

Damon launched himself through the crowd and squatted down next to them, his hand grasping Elena's upper arm. Instinct commanded him to simply abscond with her immediately, but he knew she'd never forgive him if they left her brother or her best friend behind. "Hey, guys, come on, we need to get out of here. _Now_."

Even as the words were leaving his lips, both bonfires roared to life and shot a dozen feet in the air before collapsing back in on themselves with a shower of sparks.

Overhead, the air suddenly was filled with the sound of flapping wings and drawn out, raspy hisses. Looking up, Damon saw dozens of black vultures swooping through the air like creatures out of a nightmare, coming to roost on the ledge of the boarding house's roof.

Well, that was super creepy, especially since vultures didn't normally fly at night.

Stefan and Matt stood rigidly to their rear while Klaus and Caroline were just off to his right. There was no one else left in the backyard; everyone had disappeared to safety. Only the zombies still remained, and at least they had stopped moving – in fact, they were all staring in the same direction away from the house, which upped the creep factor quite a bit.

"So, what do you guys think about the zombies? Pretty cool, right?"

Damon's gaze pivoted from the vultures on the roof to a young man standing at the edge of the back yard, the source of the unknown voice. The young man's upper body rested casually on a tree trunk, and the light of the fires threw wavering shadows across his long, lean face. Firelight also glinted off a shiny red and gold bag of pork rinds in his hand.

Damon rose and interposed his body between Elena and the intruder. "Do you know this guy?" the dark Salvatore asked Elena, Bonnie, and Jeremy out the side of his mouth.

All three quickly, firmly shook their heads.

"Sorry, manners," the young man rebuked himself with a self-deprecating smile, raising a hand to his mouth. "I'm Kai." He crunched down on a pork rind.


	7. Chapter 7

_Elena's POV_

 _( Just an experiment; wanted a challenge - it was. Being Elena isn't_

 _nearly as much fun as being Damon. I'm sure that surprises exactly no one. ;P )_

"So, what do you guys think about the zombies? Pretty cool, right?" Elena heard an unknown voice say, but she didn't let herself be distracted. Jeremy might be hurt.

She used her fangs to bite into her wrist as it vaguely registered that Damon released her arm and moved away. She offered the healing blood to her brother, but Jeremy shoved her arm away and sat up. "I said I'm fine! It missed, okay?" He showed her the hole in his shirt, and there was no visible wound underneath.

It was true. She didn't smell any blood on him. In fact, the only blood she could smell came from Damon.

"Do you know this guy?" the dark Salvatore asked Elena, Bonnie, and Jeremy out the side of his mouth.

She emphatically shook her head, as did they.

"Sorry, manners," the young man rebuked himself with a self-deprecating smile, raising a hand to his mouth. "I'm Kai." He crunched down on a pork rind.

Elena stared at the person who'd just spoken. His lean frame was relaxed against a tree, exuding an aura of complete unconcern that he'd just crashed a party of supernatural beings who would kill him without batting an eyelid. He wore only a plain grey t-shirt and jeans, and his hair was a short dark brown, spiked in the front. She had to admit under any other circumstances he'd be extremely attractive with his full lips and a face that reminded her of a darker-complected Ryan Reynolds. He wasn't supernaturally beautiful like Damon, or even Stefan, but he'd certainly stand out in a crowd.

Under any other circumstances like when he wasn't currently engaged in creating chaos and carnage with the goal of hurting and terrorizing the people she loved.

Stefan asked from somewhere behind her, "Who are you?"

Kai munched another pork rind and stared down into the bag's contents. "Is he deaf? Aren't vampires supposed to have like super-sensitive hearing?"

Damon clarified, "I think what my brother is _trying_ to say is what the hell do you want?"

During this exchange, Elena rose and moved alongside Damon, looking him over for any injuries. One of his sleeves was damp with blood.

She frowned worriedly but understood that they needed to deal with the more immediate threat before she inspected him with a fine tooth comb to make sure he was alright. Looking across the yard at Kai, she found him smiling at her with a cold, eerie smile. She was both annoyed and grateful when Damon grabbed her and pulled her behind him so that she wasn't directly in enemy sights.

In response to Damon, Kai said, "To say hi. Hi." He waved his hand once in a mocking manner. "It would be rude to visit without introducing myself to my fellow supernaturals, and I'm really trying to work on my people skills. Please, no need to introduce yourselves; I feel like I already know all of you so well."

"You've been spying on us?" Damon asked.

"Oh, not me personally. But they have." He gestured first to the zombies standing motionless around them before sweeping his hand up to include the vultures hissing and rustling on the roof. "And I must say, _very_ disappointing. You two," he wiggled his fingers at Damon and Elena, "get a room."

Elena gritted her jaw, feeling completely violated by the thought that this creep voyeur had witnessed her intimate moments with Damon.

Kai's gaze jumped to Stefan. "Seriously, bunnies? Is there a special trick to get the fur out of your teeth?" He shook his head. "And people call me a sociopath."

She just wanted him to stop talking, so she asked, "All those people at Pastor Young's farm? You killed them?"

"Yup, that was me." He said it like he was admitting to a particularly clever prank.

"Why?"

"Because it's all part of the plan." He chuckled. "Yes, I killed people you know and care about, blah blah blah, but don't worry. As you will see, their deaths serve a higher purpose. A _better_ purpose."

He was making her sick. Something dark and inhuman uncoiled inside of her, urging her to give in and rip his throat out, to eliminate this threat to her loved ones. She tried her best to ignore it. "There is something seriously wrong with you."

"Funny, my mom said the same thing once. Right before I stabbed her in the stomach. Then the chest. Then the throat. Hmm, there was probably somewhere else, too."

Damon broke in with, "I hope you at least stabbed her eardrums out first so she didn't have to suffer."

Kai's lips curved upwards the slightest degree as he regarded Damon thoughtfully. Finally, he emitted one brief laugh. "I like you, Damon, you're funny. And I like your girl, too. She's pretty."

Kai winked at Elena, and Damon became deathly still. She sensed that he on the verge of snapping and doing something reckless and irreversible. She grabbed his hand and weaved their fingers together, trying to communicate to him that she wasn't going to let Kai bother her and that he should do the same. She did not want him trying to be a hero.

Bonnie piped up during the conversational lull, asking, "So you're a warlock?"

"Bonnie, the smart one." He chuckled to himself. "Warlock. I really hate that word. So medieval. Plus, I'm not really a witch, you know? A witch's power comes from the earth, from their ancestors. Mine comes from death. What I do is necromancy or death magic – there's a lot of names. I mostly just go with badass."

"It's badass to kill people?" Bonnie challenged.

"I'm not killing them just for the sake of killing them. It's not like I enjoy it – okay, I do a little." He held up his thumb and forefinger, a miniscule distance between them. "But, no, seriously, it's for the magic. You of all people should understand that, Bonnie. With great magic comes great sacrifice."

"So, is that what you want?" Stefan demanded. "You want us for some sacrifice?"

"What? No, you've misunderstood me. I don't want to hurt any of you; I just need to stay in your little town for a few days. Honestly, I've felt the pull to come here for awhile, but I mostly ignored it. I mean, who wants to end up in a backwater, hillbilly town like this? You don't even have any good restaurants. But you know what you do have?"

"Could we get the short version please? A hundred and forty characters or less?" Damon's voice was sharp and snide.

Kai smiled and it was both devious and charming. "An astronomical death rate. There's so much glorious death here. I'm super excited about that. It makes me feel right at home. Also, mega powerful, since I have an affinity for dead people. They do whatever I say."

He popped one more handful of pork rinds into his mouth before crumpling the bag and tossing it carelessly over his shoulder. He scrubbed his hands off on his jeans and jerked his chin at the frozen zombies. "Over here, guys."

The zombies began walking toward Kai with slow, purposeful steps. Raising both hands up about chest level, he scooped his hands away from each other as if he were parting the air in front him.

The shambling corpses split into two groups, and half veered off toward one bonfire while the other half marched in the direction of the second bonfire. Without a single second of hesitation, all of them plowed straight into the flames.

Elena gasped. Even if they were already dead, these were still people she'd known her whole life, and now they turning into human tiki torches right before her eyes.

Not to mention the smell. Oh god, she wanted to double over and puke from the smell.

Klaus suddenly growled angrily, "You'll need more than some burning corpses to scare me," and blurred across the yard with the intent of attacking Kai.

Kai straightened and one hand came up. Elena found the young man's eyes chilling; they had gone flat and cold like a shark's, utterly devoid of empathy or compassion.

Klaus went from moving too fast to be seen to being squashed flat on the ground by some unseen force.

"Not cool," Kai admonished him, "your temper's going to get you in trouble."

Veins stood out on the Original's forehead as he struggled to free himself from Kai's invisible hold.

"My magic also grants me the ability to control vampires. Get it? 'Cause they're technically dead?" Again with the laugh that was seriously getting on her last nerves. "Bet you didn't see that one coming."

Kai danced his fingers in the air like he was directing the strings of an invisible marionette puppet. Klaus lurched to his feet and began to stumble toward one of the bonfires, sizzling corpses still visible in the shifting flames.

"I hear you can't be killed," Kai commented. "I can't wait to see how that works out in practice."

"Stop it, please!" Caroline cried.

There was no love lost on Elena's part for Klaus but the ease with which Kai neutralized a thousand year old vampire combined with Caroline's distress made her hand tighten around Damon's.

Perceiving Elena's unhappiness, Damon snapped, "What the fuck do you want?" His muscles were bunching and releasing in an alarming rhythm. He wanted to attack, but didn't want to end up like Klaus either.

"Now that I've established who the alpha is," Kai released his magical hold on Klaus by lowering his hand, "nothing."

The ancient vampire tried to retain his balance once Kai was no longer controlling him, but instead he fell over backwards when his knees gave out. Luckily he fell away from the fire he'd almost been forced to walk into.

"Really hope I see you guys around. _Invisiquay._ " Kai whispered a word of magic which caused him to disappear from view.

The vultures launched themselves skyward and took off in lazy spirals into the dark sky. Elena raised a hand to cover her head until the air cleared. The last thing she needed right now was to get crapped on.

When they had fully departed, she turned to Damon. "Your arm-"

"I'm fine," he said shortly. "Go check on the others."

She gave him an exasperated look. "Damon-"

"Go!"

She frowned. He was always doing that, just dismissing her. She glared for a moment before ultimately obeying and leaving him where he stood still staring at the spot from which Kai had vanished.

She fell to her knees beside Caroline who was helping Klaus sit up. "I am going to rip that bloody prick's limbs off and beat him to death with them!" the Original snarled in fury.

"No, you're not," Caroline countered harshly. "You're going to sit here and let me make sure you're alright."

Klaus's features softened as his rage leeched away. "I suppose I could use a thorough examination, since you're offering."

Elena blushed. Clearly, they didn't need her help.

She sped over to the spot where Stefan, Matt, Jeremy, and Bonnie had all huddled together. "You guys okay?"

"We're fine." Bonnie smiled thinly. "As fine as we can be after being attacked by a crazy person."

Elena smiled thinly in return until she suddenly remembered that she'd smelled blood on Damon. _His_ blood. She hated that she'd forgotten for even a second.

She looked around for him, but couldn't find him anywhere. He'd slipped off, for some reason.

Though she'd had a few drinks and shared a joint with Damon, she felt stone cold sober, nervous adrenaline tingling through her body in the aftermath of the confrontation with Kai, and her worry for Damon grew.

She instantly took off searching for him. The first place she went was his bedroom.

"Damon?" she called.

His head poked out of the bathroom. "Present."

"Is everything alright? You just took off." She shut his bedroom door behind her as she entered.

He emerged fully into the bedroom. His shirt was completely unbuttoned now, revealing a drool-worthy strip of muscular white torso and a mouth-watering trail of black hair that started under his navel and disappeared beneath pants slung low on narrow hips. A snarky smirk stretched across his features, making him look as arrogant as ever. "Stefan looked like he had everything under control. Maybe next time I say I don't want a party, you'll listen."

She reluctantly dragged her eyes from his chest to his torn sleeve. "Why do you smell like blood?"

He glanced down at his shredded sleeve and fingered the damaged material. "I got bit. Apparently, Vampire Barbie hasn't mastered the art of watching her back."

Elena regarded him affectionately. When Damon was bad, he was sexy as sin. When he was good, he was freaking irresistible. "You saved Caroline."

He snorted. "Yeah, well, tell Gossip Girl to keep her mouth shut. Can't have her ruining my good name."

He flashed Elena a panty-melting grin that made her want to leap into his arms and have her way with him. And her way involved nudity. Lots of nudity.

Definitely no clothes.

She took a deep breath for control. _Jumping his bones is a bad idea,_ she repeated several times to herself. Unfortunately, not a single molecule in her body was buying it. Instead, they were all urging her to jump him immediately without delay.

So what was stopping her from sleeping with him right away?

It wasn't that she didn't want to, because she really, _really_ did, and it's not like Damon wouldn't be receptive – that was the understatement of the year.

The problem was that everyone fell into bed with him at the drop of a hat, and who could blame them? Raw sex oozed from his pores, and it was impossible not to have dirty thoughts about him when every part of him incited those dirty thoughts. He made her worse than a cat in heat. Earlier tonight, she'd barely lasted what? Ten minutes before she couldn't keep her hands off of him? She'd had to kiss that arrogant, charming, infuriating mouth, had to feel every yummy inch of his rock hard-

Wait, what was she supposed to be thinking about? Oh, right, why she _wasn't_ going to immediately bang his brains out right that instant until they were both exhausted and incoherent.

For some reason, it was important to her to be different from the many, many, _too many_ others, and especially from Katherine. It wasn't fair to Damon or Stefan if she simply jumped immediately out of one brother's bed straight into the bed of the other – that was Katherine's MO, and she emphatically did not want to repeat history.

All she wanted was to do the right thing without hurting anybody, but Damon certainly didn't make it easy, she thought, eyeing him again as he stood before her all smoking hot with flexing abs and blue, blue eyes framed by lashes so thick and black he looked like he was wearing eye liner – _no one_ should have eyes that blue, it wasn't fair….

Those blue eyes widened inquisitively. "Earth to Elena?"

She jumped when she realized he'd caught her staring. To cover up the direction in which her thoughts had taken her, she quickly threw out there, "What are we going to do about this Kai guy moving into our town?"

"Who cares?"

"You should care. There's some deranged lunatic on the loose in our home doing god knows what."

He shrugged nonchalantly. "If I had a dollar for every time an evil sociopath blew into town…."

"Damon, this is serious."

"I know, but can't we talk about this later?"

She couldn't resist that cajoling look. "What would you rather talk about?" .

"I believe I was promised a present once we got inside." He motioned to the four walls and ceiling of his bedroom as evidence that they were no longer outside.

"Oh, that."

"Mmm, that," he said, walking over to his dresser. Her gaze unwittingly dropped, and her breath constricted as she took in the jaw-dropping perfection of his ass. Glancing back over his shoulder, he sent her a cocky, crooked smile as if he could sense the effect he had on her.

Ugh, he probably could.

She watched him search through a drawer, looking for a clean shirt, while she summoned her courage. He pulled one out and gave it a shake. "Well?" he asked. "I'm dying over here. Not literally, of course."

She squared her shoulders, determined to go through with it. "Anything you want."

He tilted his head. "I'm sorry, huh?"

"I didn't know what to get you, so I thought I'd let you tell me what you want. Anything."

"Anything?" When he repeated the word back at her, he didn't sound happy, and his face was remote, guarded. Not the response she'd been hoping for.

"Anything," she confirmed, though her smile was slightly less now.

He was silent for a moment. She waited nervously, wondering what he'd ask for. She didn't know what was compelling her to offer him this – other than that she trusted him and she wanted to please him.

Finally, he shoved the clean shirt back into the drawer and slammed the dresser shut. He ground out, "What are you doing?"

"What do you mean? I'm not doing anything."

"Bullshit. What fucking mind-game is this?"

"Mind-game?" This wasn't going at all the way she'd hoped.

"Oh, come on, Elena. First you want to put the brakes on everything, and then you kiss me, and then you jump away like you're ashamed to be seen with me, and now you're offering me _anything_ I want? Is any of that supposed to make sense? Because it doesn't." His mouth was a hard angry line.

She sighed. She didn't mean to confuse him. She knew she was, but it was only because she was so confused herself. It's not like anyone had given her a handbook telling her the proper way to fall in love with and date two deeply damaged, insanely gorgeous vampire brothers. Most of the time, she had no idea what she was doing and could only pray she was making the right choices.

"I'm not playing with you," she tried to convince him. "I just really wanted to give you something you'd like. It seemed like a better idea in my head." She gave a half-hearted laugh. "Obviously."

Clearly not believing her, he stood there, face closed off, the slightest hint of vulnerability swimming in the depths of his blue eyes, and her heart ached with the knowledge that she was partly responsible for the fact that he was so uncertain, so untrusting.

His moment of indecision over, he stalked towards her, and sensing the predator lurking in him, her body responded by growing tense, more alert, hair standing on end. She was aware of him with every fiber of her being. He stopped just inches from her, and his warm masculine scent of leather and bourbon and dark spices crashed over her, leaving her instantly, noticeably wet.

"You know I'm not going to ask for a new toaster." His words were sharp, staccato. Black lashes veiled the icy intensity of his eyes. "Assuming this isn't some mind-fuck."

"If it's not?" She looked up at him with huge eyes. "If this isn't a game, what will you ask for?"

Damon's face didn't change, but his throat bobbled as he swallowed and a muscle under his left eye twitched. His gaze dropped to her mouth, then even lower to the shadow of cleavage visible above the white edge of her top. "A taste." His voice was hoarse. "Just a taste."

He meant a taste of her blood. Yes, of course, that was perfect. She should have thought of that herself. She easily recalled the mind-scrambling pleasure that drinking Damon's blood had brought her, and she wanted to give that pleasure to him. Grabbing her hair, she pulled it aside so one side of her neck was exposed.

"Uh-uh." He jerked her to him so that her back was flush against his chest. Warm heat radiated from him, seeping into her muscles and making her insides melt. With one hand spread low across her belly, he guided her snugly against his hips, his erection nestling between her ass cheeks. For a moment, she forgot to breathe. The other hand tucked back her hair as his lips whispered against the curve of her ear, "Lay down."

He tensed, awaiting her response. No doubt he expected her to refuse.

If only he knew that he'd just conquered the last of her feeble resistance. She would do whatever he wanted her to do.

She drew a ragged breath and stepped away until she reached his bed. She crawled up the length of the mattress and stacked two pillows together before turning over and lying down, arms by her side, knees bent. Her shorts left her thighs bare as she spread her legs enticingly.

She regarded him with a calm, serene expression, hoping he couldn't see how she trembled. "Is this how you want me?"

With an explosion of movement, he went from standing half way across the room to looming directly above her, propping himself up on his arms. His lower body settled into the cradle of her thighs. Springs creaked as the mattress adjusted to their combined weight.

"Always," he murmured.

She couldn't think about always; all she could think about was right now, and right now she wanted him more than she'd ever wanted anyone.

In that moment as he hovered over her, the world was still. The smoldering sensuality of his gaze captivated her, made her ache for the wicked things his eyes promised if she was only brave enough to admit to him – and to herself - that she wanted them. Just the barest ghost of his fleeting breath warmed her face, and her heart beat in her chest like a runaway train, a percussive tempo she felt throughout her whole body. The bed sheets were slick and cool against her overheated skin.

His body rippled with coiled tension, a predator ready to strike, and she suddenly realized her precarious position: she was in _Damon's_ bed… _with_ Damon. He was darkly impulsive, dangerous, destructive. The things he made her feel were thrilling and freeing, but also fierce and terrible. She'd basically just grabbed a wild panther by the tail – sure, maybe he was content to purr and rub himself against her for now but the possibility always remained that with one mercurial mood shift the lethal beast could turn and devour her.

Fine, then, at least she'd go out experiencing the greatest pleasure she'd ever felt in her young life.

She reached up and grabbed his shirt collar with the intention of pulling him lower for a kiss. He complied up to a certain point. His mouth came nearer until it hovered over hers, lips inches away. Then, she couldn't budge him.

"This is what you want?" he asked intently, softly.

Damon wasn't really known for respecting the choices of others, so it made her love him even more that he would make absolutely certain she was okay with this even as she felt exactly how much he wanted her straining insistently against her aching core.

"I want whatever you want."

"Say it," he demanded, not satisfied with her answer.

"Yes, I want this," she said, adding a second later, "with you."

His spellbinding eyes flared with desire, and a slight tremor raced through her, a ripple effect from the overwhelming emotions he roused within her.

"I would never hurt you," he whispered, assuming her shiver was born of fear. Remorse immediately flickered across his features, and she knew he was thinking of all the times he _had_ hurt her.

She just smiled. "I know." She really did believe him. She would follow him into the darkness trusting that he would take care of her.

Her absolving words chased the shadows from his expression.

She licked her lips, nimble, pink tongue drawing his attention. His hand rose to her face, thumb gently tracing the bow curve of her lips.

Then, his fingers descended down the underside of her chin to the soft skin of her neck, over the ledge of her collarbone and down still more before finally pausing where tan skin met white fabric. One finger tapped the exposed part of her cleavage, his gaze locking onto the minute filigree of blue veins just barely visible under the caramel skin.

"Here," he declared in a husky, rumbling voice and began to draw feather light circles on her sensitive flesh, goose bumps spreading outward until they covered her entire body. "I'm going to taste you here."

She nodded, begging, "Please," not even embarrassed because all she could do was _want_.

He hooked his fingers in the fragile band of cloth wrapped around her chest and pulled it down until her breasts were completely exposed to his gaze.

For a few heartbeats, he was still, simply admiring her loveliness. She loved when he looked at her like that, like she was something beautiful and precious and he was going to eat her all up.

When he'd had his fill of just looking, he reached up to touch a nipple, and when the tip of his finger brushed over the stiff peak, she nearly came out of her skin. She fisted her hands in the bed sheets, arching in shameless invitation.

He accepted, tugging and teasing the soft flesh with skilled fingers.

When his mouth replaced his hand on her breast, so cool against her feverish skin, it left her gasping.

His tongue flicked over her nipple before he sucked the taut point between his sinful lips. The wet suction of his mouth was almost more than she could endure.

Dear god, how could anything feel this good? She had yet to have sex as a vampire – though there was that one incredible orgasm she'd experienced with Damon in the woods - and if this was any indication, she didn't know how she'd survive her newly heightened senses and magnified desires.

When he finally abandoned his ministrations with one last ruthless suck, her nipple was swollen and exquisitely sensitive.

Black veins forked across Damon's cheeks, the whites of his eyes gone red with hunger and lust. With a single fang, he drew a red line in the tender skin just above her nipple. His tongue darted out to lap away the blood beading to the surface before the cut instantly healed.

"Fuck, princess," he groaned, "you taste like sunshine."

She bit her lip, then asked tremulously, "That's good, right?"

He smothered a laugh against her breast. "Yeah, that's good. Fucking addictive."

Then he bit her on the inside of her left breast and all ability for rational speech fled. It probably went to the same place as her vanquished willpower.

His fangs sank in slowly, and she savored every moment of penetration, riding an exquisite line between pain and pleasure. Head spinning, her lids slid shut, and she tangled her fingers in luscious black hair. His dark kiss was pure erotic bliss and left her fantasizing about how another part of his would feel sheathed deep in her most intimate flesh.

"Damon…," she moaned, not even recognizing her own voice it was so distorted with desire. This build-up was anguish, and she wanted him inside of her _now_.

Responding to the urgency in her tone, he surged back up and claimed her mouth. His hardness pressed against her core, and her legs tightened around his hips.

She could taste her blood on his tongue which sent her lust sky rocketing off the charts.

Suddenly, she hated the fact that there were clothes between them. She craved the freedom to touch every delicious part of him and they were keeping her from that.

Her hands slid south to his hips, and then she began to run her hands back up his chest, taking her sweet time at each unyielding ridge, lingering greedily over every smooth plane. His body possessed the perfection of sculpture, sleek and hard at the same time, velvet stretched tautly over expertly carved marble. When her fingers found his flat nipples, he shuddered, inhaling a shocked breath. She marveled that her touch had the power to affect him so strongly.

Finally making it all the way up to his shoulders, she started easing his shirt off, sliding the soft material down his arms.

Feeling him wince just the slightest bit, she froze. "What is it?"

"Nothing." He tried to kiss her again.

"Damon!" She struggled to sit up. There was blood on her hand. _Fresh blood._

"No, no, no, it's fine. Everything's fine." He nuzzled her in an attempt at distraction.

She ignored him, sitting up and forcing him to do the same. Yanking his sleeve down, she revealed a nasty wound on his upper arm. She stared in horror. The sight was like being dashed with a bucket of ice water. The wound wasn't big, but it was deep. Blood seeped slowly down his arm.

"Why aren't you healing?"

He scowled at his injured arm, eyes slightly wild, raven hair disheveled. "I have no idea."


	8. Chapter 8

_Damon's POV_

Elena spent the night.

That's right, a girl – and not just any girl but _Elena Gilbert_ – slept next to him in his bed, and they didn't even have sex. That hadn't happened in, well…ever. It was certainly not his call. He tried his best to convince Elena that all systems were still go - at least the only one that mattered was - but she wasn't having it. She was _worried._ Eye roll.

So, he allowed her to doctor his arm up under the condition that she tell no one about his injury, and then all they proceeded to do was talk and sleep. At least, Elena slept. He spent the whole night staring at the ceiling, listening to her soft breathing and savoring her warmth where she lay curled into his side, head resting on his shoulder.

In the morning, she'd departed to go home but not before she'd let him cook her breakfast. She liked strawberry pancakes and, holy hell, did she look sexy eating them. Every time her pink lips opened and closed over her fork or her long, slender fingers wrapped around her coffee mug so she could take a drink of fresh brewed coffee, he'd wanted to reach across the table and make her _his_ breakfast.

Now, it was early afternoon of the same day, and Elena was sitting on a black leather couch in his library because the living room was still full of party detritus. Her legs were drawn up under her, and she was talking to Bonnie, who sat next to her, and Caroline, who was seated in the leather armchair across from them.

He wasn't even paying attention to what the girls were saying. He simply enjoyed watching Elena. She was positively fascinating, all feminine grace, sweet and seductive. Sipping on blood out of a crystal glass, she played idly with the ends of her hair as Bonnie droned on about something. A large book with pages covered in spidery handwriting was open on her lap.

Ostensibly, the girls were supposed to be looking through Bonnie's collection of grimoires for anything that might shed light on how to handle the newest threat to arrive in Mystic Falls.

Perhaps, by some miracle, the girls would uncover some useful information like a weakness, something that would make Kai easy to take down and kill, in one of these crusty ancient witch cook books. But he wasn't holding his breath while he waited.

In the end, this would all probably be one big waste of time, and that was making him antsy as hell. He wanted to do something _now,_ his temper frayed due to an arm that wouldn't heal and balls that were obnoxiously sore.

However, instead, but only because he didn't yet know the whereabouts of the target for his anger, he was indulging in his favorite bourbon, the kind that he only stored in the library, which was the reason he'd wandered in. Not because he wanted to be in the same room as Elena.

 _But_ since he was here….

His gaze wandered over her body. She wore a t-shirt that clearly outlined the up thrust of her chest. Remembering with brilliant clarity the sight of those round, perky, unbelievable breasts he'd had his hands and mouth on last night, his dick twitched.

He imagined laying her back on that leather couch and ramming himself into her while filling his hands with those soft, squeezable breasts.

This time, his dick more than twitched. Okay, this train of thought was not helping his aching balls.

When Elena noticed where his attention lay, she sent him a small, cute smile.

Bonnie shot him a weary look. "If you're going to lurk, you could at least help." She swept her arm around to indicate the stacks of grimoires they had yet to crack open.

He grimaced. "Can't. Hocus pocus crap makes my allergies act up."

"That's convenient," Caroline said bitchily, flipping through pages of a book spread open on the arm of her chair. She looked across at Elena. "So, Elena, where's Stefan?"

"Umm, I don't know," Elena said in a voice that clearly warned Caroline to drop the subject.

"Don't you think he should be here? He would help."

"You're right, Care. Why don't you give him a call?"

"I think _you_ should do that – unless you'll be too busy making out with his brother some more behind his back."

"Caroline!" Elena sat up straight and slammed the book in her lap shut.

"What? I'm supposed to just sit here quietly while you make a huge mistake? Oh, wait, my phone." The blonde vampire hopped up to answer her buzzing phone. As she walked away, everyone overheard, "Hold on, I can't understand you. Stop yelling!"

Elena mouthed _Sorry_ at Damon.

He smiled wryly back, not bothered at all. Caroline not being a fan of him and Elena was hardly an earth shattering revelation. Apparently, pushing her out of the path of an oncoming zombie had done nothing to endear him to her. Not that he'd expected any such thing. Or cared.

Abruptly, he snapped at Bonnie, "Witchy, spill. What've you got so far?"

The pretty girl sat up, a little startled at suddenly being thrust into the center of the conversation. She'd been sinking slowly back into the couch cushion, looking very uncomfortable during Elena and Caroline's exchange. "Umm, well, there doesn't seem to be much. Apparently, no one wrote down too much about the witches who turned to death magic because they didn't want anyone following the same path."

"So he _is_ technically a witch?" Damon said, grasping for anything that might lead to something useful.

Bonnie shrugged. "Technically, but as soon as he started performing such dark and evil magic against the will of the spirits, the spirits would have abandoned him, cutting him off from traditional magic sources. So he has to keep killing to maintain and increase his power. Whatever reason Kai has for being in Mystic Falls, it can't be anything good, and a lot of people are going to die."

Damon sighed and took a brief swallow of bourbon. "Way to be completely unhelpful. It's a little sad you needed all of this," he nodded to the piles of spell books, "to figure that out."

"Well, now we've also figured out where Kai is," Caroline said, suddenly rejoining the conversation.

"What? How?" Elena asked, jerking around to look up at her friend and knocking a book off the couch in the process.

"That was Klaus on the phone. Apparently, Kai wanted to stay at the nicest place in Mystic Falls, so he walked right into Klaus's mansion and kicked Klaus and all his minions out."

"Oh my god, Klaus must be so pissed," Elena laughed.

"Why did Klaus call you? Doesn't he have his own witches?" Damon said, puzzled.

"He knows Bonnie has access to hundreds of old grimoires, most of which used to belong to one of his witches," Caroline reminded him. "He wanted to know if we'd found anything yet. Klaus's pretty gung ho about going after Kai as I'm sure you can imagine."

Damon snorted while Bonnie and Elena began to interrogate their friend deeper.

Nope, the collective wisdom of Bonnie's ancestors had yielded jack shit, but honestly now he had all he really needed. He knew where Kai was and that fucker was _dead._ It was bad enough he'd crashed Damon's party and threatened them on their own turf, but then an injury he'd received from one of Kai's zombies had prevented him from finally having sex with Elena. He was pretty damn sure she'd been ready to go all the way last night if this fucking bite hadn't ruined the mood. So he was going to force Kai to heal his arm, hopefully kill him, and return to Elena. Then they would finish what they had started last night.

He quickly shot back the rest of his drink and darted away without saying another word.

Elena caught up to him in his room. His leather jacket was laid out on the end of his bed, and he was lining the internal pockets with weapons and various odds and ends he might conceivably require.

"You're going after him, aren't you?"

"Shh," he said holding a finger up to his ear, indicating that others might be listening.

Her voice dropped in volume, but she didn't give up. "What's your plan?"

"I'm going to find him, make him heal me, and then I'll rip his head off."

"You shouldn't go alone. We should tell the others-"

"Absolutely not."

"Then, let me come with you."

He laughed briefly. "Yeah, that's not gonna happen."

"What if you need me?"

He gave her an amused look. "I do need you. To stay here and be safe."

Wrinkles appeared in her forehead. "You're being reckless. I really don't like this plan. Damon, it's not _even_ a plan-"

"Shh," he whispered again, tugging on a strand of silky brown hair floating about her face. "Trust me."

She swallowed audibly and shook her head in resignation. "Fine, take your shirt off."

With vampire speed, he divested himself of his black T shirt. It went whipping to the other side of the room. "Your turn."

He began to crowd her so she put a hand up to his chest, blocking him from coming closer. For a few seconds, she just stood there staring at the point where her hand made contact with his pec. Then she drew a sharp breath and glanced up at him. "So I can give you a fresh bandage. Sit."

He stuck out his bottom lip. "My idea's much more fun."

But he sat, and she returned to his side with an armful of supplies. After she unwound the gauze around his arm, she pulled back the blood-soaked dressing. "It doesn't look any worse. But it also doesn't look any better."

Frowning, she hunted around for a bottle of disinfectant.

As she daubed gingerly around the red edges of his wound with a cotton ball, he lifted one eye brow. "You do realize that's not doing anything, right?"

She pursed her lips. "It makes me feel better."

He tilted his head and smirked. "You're not _worried_ about me, are you?"

She folded some clean squares of gauzy material and placed it over the bite mark. "Of course not. I have no reason to worry. You're hurt and we don't know why or how to make it better, and you think it's a good idea to go alone to force a psychopath to help you when his magic allows him to literally control us like puppets. Absolutely nothing could go wrong, so why should I be worried?"

"Now you're just being a smart ass."

She wound new stretchy bandage stuff around his bicep to hold the dressing in place. "You make me that way."

"I suppose I can accept some of the blame." He waited until she cut the end of the bandage and tucked the end down, securing it so it wouldn't come undone before he pulled her against him, kissing her softly, letting one hand slide down her back and work its way under the band of her jeans.

"What're you doing?" she whispered, and he could feel her smile against his mouth.

"Shamelessly using my sex appeal to distract you. Is it working?" He pressed his lips against hers one more time, a languid plundering that left him as breathless as it did her.

Finding nothing under her jeans but smooth bare skin and two thin elastic strings, he raised his eyebrows. "A thong, Miss Gilbert? Did you wear that just for me?"

"I seem to remember this one time on a beach when you wanted me to wear one."

"Aren't you observant?"

Elena glanced down quickly, and when she looked back up, her expression was grave. "Promise me you'll come back safely."

"I promise." He cupped her face and kissed her deeply with every intention of honoring his word. Nothing would prevent him from returning to Elena.

* * *

Slamming the door to his Camaro, Damon strode up the long driveway leading to the front door of Klaus's enormous white mansion. Damon had zero good memories from this place, but that wouldn't stop him from tearing it apart to find Kai. Might even be therapeutic.

Dozens of vultures hovered over the entryway and lined the branches of the manicured trees sprinkled around the front yard. There was bird crap everywhere.

Stepping carefully, Damon tried the doorknob and discovered the front door was unlocked. Walking in, he paused beside the grand staircase with its wrought iron railing to listen. He detected a single heart beat. First floor. Somewhere over to his left.

He followed the sound into a sitting room.

Kai was slouched on a couch, shoes planted on the expensive polished wooden table in front of him. Appalled, Damon watched as he scooped a hand into a jar of purple jam and deposited the sticky substance into his mouth.

"Surprise," Damon said lightly, arms spread, palms facing up.

"No surprise; I've been expecting you." The young man looked up with a grin. "Though I did think it would take a little longer for you to find me."

"Then, you shouldn't have sent the former tenant into such a snit."

Kai nodded in acknowledgement, slurping down some more jam. "Noted." A big chunk dripped down his chin, and he caught it with the back of his hand before it fell on his shirt. "What can I do for you, Damon?"

First removing his jacket and folding it on the arm of a chair nearby, Damon yanked up his sleeve to reveal the bandage Elena had so endearingly and tightly wrapped around his upper arm. "One of your zombies was kind enough to leave me with a souvenir."

"Mmm, of course, here." He stuck his hand in his mouth to clean it off and set the jar of jam between his thighs. He waved the same hand once. "Done."

Damon ripped the gauze off his bicep to find only flawless, white skin. His eyes narrowed. "That's it?"

"That's it. Unless you need something else." Kai picked up his jam again but didn't eat any. Major creep vibes rolled off him in huge waves.

Deciding that he could forgo killing Kai until some later time when he had the element of surprise as well as reinforcements, he shrugged back into his jacket and tried to zip away but couldn't. His leg muscles were locked. All he managed was to awkwardly rotate his upper body. He glared at Kai, curling his lip with vexation.

Kai smiled slightly. "Sorry, changed my mind. Maybe you could do something for me after all."

"I doubt it," the dark Salvatore growled. Suddenly, Damon's legs went limp, forcing him to grab the wall to keep from falling over. Kai's hold was lifted. He righted himself angrily.

"Would you like to sit?" Kai motioned to the many chairs in the room.

"No."

"Are you sure? 'Cause you're not leaving."

Damon crossed his arms.

"Okay." The young man indulged in another handful of jam and smacked his lips. "I need to kill more people. Like a _lot_ of people. Big spell."

"Don't care."

Kai continued as if Damon hadn't spoken. "The explosion at Pastor Young's farm was the first massacre. I need two more."

"Seems a little excessive."

"I completely agree. Normally just one or two every so often, but this time I need a lot of juice." He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his thighs, like he was about to let Damon in on a secret. "I'm going to become immortal."

This guy was a sick joke. Even Damon's master plan when he first returned to Mystic Falls had been way better than this idiot's. At least his plan had been evil and imaginative. Immortality? Yawn. "Then, you're certainly in the right place. There's a ton of vampires here that I'm sure would _love_ to turn you. I mean, I could just do it myself but well, I don't like you."

Kai chuckled. "Please, like I'd ever be something as crass as a vampire. No, I'm talking about true immortality. I'll be deathless and still able to do magic. Have you ever heard a little Slavic folktale about the Koschei?"

"Can't say that I have. Or want to."

"He was a powerful sorcerer who magically removed his heart from his body and hid it where no one could find it, thus rendering him unkillable. He mastered death, because death was never able to touch him, _and_ he could still do magic. All it takes is three ritual mass murders, twelve people each, and I'll have the power to cast the spell that will allow me to remove my heart and achieve true immortality."

"Why such an interest in immortality? Trust me, the brochure leaves out all the sucky parts."

"I dunno, Damon, why does anyone want to be immortal? I imagine most people have loftier goals than trying to get under the skirts of high school girls, but hey, to each his own. Or his brother's. Not that I'm judging. Elena is totally hot. You and Stefan have good taste, I'll give you guys that."

Damon smiled humorlessly and forced himself to breathe in and out very slowly, not because his body needed the oxygen, but so he'd remain calm and somehow find a way to endure the rest of this conversation. "Still a little fuzzy on what exactly you need from me?"

"Two more ritual massacres, twenty four more people," Kai reminded him, "and _you're_ going to kill them for me."

"I see someone took a double dose of their crazy pills this morning. Why can't you kill them yourself?"

"I'm a germaphobe. Don't like getting my hands dirty. I mean, I've done it, but it gets so messy…." He shuddered. "So I'd rather just make you do it."

"Do all germaphobes eat jam straight out of the jar with their grubby mitts?"

Kai laughed. "I'm not afraid of my own germs. That'd just be crazy." To emphasize his point, he gulped down another huge handful of purple jam. His eyes shone with a warped sense of humor.

Damon scowled thoughtfully. "That's why you blew up the farmhouse with a gas leak. It didn't have to be up close and personal."

"Bingo. A little brainwashing, and I convinced the pastor to do it himself. But that takes time and effort that I'd rather just skip. Which brings me right back around to you."

"Right, well, I'm going to have to decline and tell you to go to hell."

"I thought you might say that, so I've prepared an offer you won't be able to refuse."

"I can't wait to hear this."

"If you don't help me, I'll kill Elena."

Instantly, red filled Damon's vision, and he heard nothing else that came out of Kai's mouth. Fury utterly consumed him until nothing remained but the impulse for destruction and death. If he wasn't going to be allowed to escape this place, then he would find a way to take this asshole out, even if he had to take himself out also.

He marched straight into the enormous kitchen and began emptying the pockets of his jacket, anything that was flammable. Lighter fluid sprayed across the kitchen counter and floor. Ripping open cabinets, he found where Klaus stored his liquor. He began to smash the bottles onto the ground.

"What are you doing?" Kai leaned casually in the doorway.

"I am going to burn this place down with you in it." Damon flicked a lighter and prepared to drop it.

Before he could, Kai raised a hand and squashed him flat. The lighter flew across the room into the young man's hand. He walked up to where Damon lay prostrate and helpless on the kitchen floor, forced to wallow in the mess of liquor and lighter fluid he'd created. Kai squatted down on the ground. "I was really hoping you were smarter than this. I guess you require another demonstration of the unequal power dynamic between us?"

Damon just glowered, rage burning hotly through his veins. "Do it, then," he growled. He was so fucking mad he couldn't see straight, and he thought nothing of goading Kai into killing him.

"Okay, but this could have gone a completely different way, I want you to remember that."

Invisible hands stopped restraining him, and Damon pushed himself back up to standing with alacrity, staring suspiciously at Kai.

"You're free to go, and this time I mean it," the evil, handsome young man assured Damon.

Without bothering to wonder why, Damon fled.

* * *

Looking out the kitchen window into the backyard, he saw Elena on her knees digging in the dirt, long dark hair swept back in a loose pony tail at the nape of her neck. Several empty cheap plastic pots lay in a discarded pile around her. She wore a pair of pink athletic shorts and a bright blue tank top that didn't quite stretch all the way down to her shorts, so a thin band of caramel skin peeked through for his viewing pleasure.

Without further ado, he made his way outside.

It had been a few days since his run-in with Kai, and he had yet to be alone with her. They'd talked on the phone a bunch and he'd seen her once, so she could confirm personally that his arm was healed, but Caroline and Bonnie had been with her, not exactly conducive company for seduction.

As for Kai, Damon had no idea what the little shit was up to and didn't care. No way was he helping that annoying man-child do anything. He told Stefan about Kai's ultimate plan – let his baby bro deal with it. As far as Damon was concerned, he'd washed his hands of the situation. Maybe if they all ignored him, Kai would hurry up and leave. And if the psycho came anywhere near Elena, he'd find out why even Klaus had heard of Damon's crazy, impulsive reputation. Without a doubt, Stefan would tell him he was being foolish, but whatever. He and his brother rarely saw eye to eye on anything. It was hard to think about such dark matters when such a bright, beautiful girl was in front of him.

As he approached, a gentle breeze carried on it her clean lavender scent mixed alongside the pleasant smells of earth and green, growing things. When his shadow fell over her and blocked out the sunlight, she turned around and smiled.

"Hey, I was just…." She trailed off, reaching up to shade her eyes with a gloved hand. "What are you wearing?"

Oh, just a black wife beater that showcased with meticulous detail every hard line of his abdomen and a pair of form-flattering, well-worn blue jeans. Around his waist, he wore a black leather belt with an eye-catching shiny silver buckle, and on his feet were his customary black boots.

"Clothes." He grinned smugly. "But if that's a problem, I'm more than happy to take them off."

She stood and swayed in his direction while pulling her gloves off which meant she was already thinking about touching him. The light scent of her arousal whispered around him. "I meant…is it laundry day at Casa Salvatore?"

"Nope, just your lucky day." Grabbing a hold of her curvy waist, he pulled her into a soft kiss. Maybe he wasn't supposed to just reach out and touch her whenever he felt like it yet, but respecting boundaries wasn't really his thing. There was no way he wasn't kissing her right now. He'd denied himself for so long, he didn't have the strength to do it anymore. He hadn't been lying when he said her taste was addicting.

At any rate, Elena didn't seem to mind. Her hands ran up the back of his arms, and when his lips floated away from hers, she asked in an achy whisper, "What was I saying?"

"You were about to explain why you're planting flowers in my back yard. Not to be construed as a complaint, by the way, especially if you always plan on wearing what you're wearing right now."

"Right." Her fingers thrummed against his triceps. "Caroline organized a fundraiser with the horticulture club to raise money for the Halloween dance. There were a bunch of plants left over, so I snagged some. I thought your backyard could use something pretty after…what happened."

"Aren't you thoughtful?"

He kissed her some more, slanting his head to taste her from a deeper angle. His hands roamed down to finger the slits in the side of her shorts before eventually finding their way up the underside of her shorts. He cupped her ass, squeezing the bare, sensitive flesh.

A thong again. Maybe it was _his_ lucky day.

Elena turned her head to the side so he rained kisses across her cheek. "Speaking of Care-"

"Were we?" He nibbled lightly on her earlobe as his fingers firmly kneaded her rear. He couldn't get enough of this, touching her, kissing her, breathing the same air as her.

Elena's fingers dipped below the waistband of his jeans. With one forceful tug, she pulled him in close enough for their lower bodies to touch. The contact almost made him groan out loud. "She's on the organizing committee for the Halloween party at school this weekend."

"Tell that girl to get a hobby." He rolled his hips slightly, enjoying the decadent feel of her against his hard length. Little tiny bolts of pleasure zigzagged crazily through his veins. Her head fell back invitingly, so he kissed the delicate hollow where her jaw touched her neck.

Elena's heart rate jumped crazily. "She kind of roped me into going, and I need a date."

Need gathered in his gut, hot and urgent. Christ, he was seriously contemplating just taking her right here on the ground. "Mmm, good luck with that on such short notice."

She made a sound in her throat and gave him a look. "I was hoping _you_ would take me."

He gave her a look right back. "And ruin my perfect record of never having a legit reason to attend one of your high school dances? I don't know if I like you that much."

"Too bad. Escorting me to high school dances is one of your boyfriend duties." He watched her face fall as she realized what she'd accidently said.

Damon forced his face to stay neutral. It was so stupid to want it. He knew better. It would just blow up in his face like everything did, and he didn't deserve her, not even for a second, but _yes,_ he wanted her to be _his._ More than anything. For however long it lasted.

"Is that what I am? Your…boyfriend?"

She asked nervously, fingers fiddling with his belt buckle, "Do you want to be my boyfriend?"

Not exactly the positive reaction he was hoping for, and was she fucking kidding? How could she ask him that with a straight face?

"Forget it." He released her and started to turn away. Fuck, how did this girl have the power to hurt him so easily?

Her hand clamped down on his forearm. "I wouldn't have said it if that's not what I wanted."

He wavered, torn between wanting to believe her and not believing her. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," she agreed, throwing her arms around his neck and standing on her tip toes so she was eye level with him. "Doesn't anything ever get to be easy with you?"

"Never. I'm always very, very hard," he leered.

She laughed and kissed him. Very distantly, as Elena's tongue tangled ardently with his, he grew aware that something was watching them, a sneaky little spy. _Can't have that, can we_? he thought to himself. By tossing a flare of power out into the nearby woods, he beckoned for the nearest available assistance.

When caws and hisses shattered the air, Elena drew back and glanced towards the commotion. A crow swooped and dove at the head of a vulture who sat on a tree limb not far from where he held Elena in his arms. With a final harassed squawk, the vulture lumbered into the air, the determined crow continuing its assault until both were out of sight.

"Did you summon that crow?" she asked him.

He signaled yes with a cocky double-lift of his eyebrows.

Her eyes widened as did her smile. "I forgot you could do that. You have to teach me how. So cool."

"There are many things I intend to teach you, princess," he murmured, voice dark and sultry so she'd have no doubt as to what _kind_ of things he intended to teach her.

"Why do you call me that?"

"Call you what?" He really wished they could just stop talking.

"Princess."

He exhaled loudly, brushing out of her eyes the few strands of her hair that insisted on working themselves free of her ponytail. "Well, for starters, you're horribly spoiled rotten."

She smacked his shoulder. "I am not!"

"How many times have you said we have to do everything _your_ way?"

She scrunched her face up in indignation. "How many times did you listen?"

He tapped her on the tip of her nose with his index finger. "That is not what we're discussing right now. Let's see, what else? You're a textbook example of a damsel in distress. Always having to be rescued from _something_."

"That's a low blow."

"And you definitely qualify as prudey. Princesses are always prudey."

She wrinkled her nose. "You think I'm a prude?"

"Am I wrong?" His eyes gleamed daringly.

She grabbed fistfuls of his wife beater and pulled him closer. Her gaze was locked on his mouth. "It's considered cruel for boyfriends to tease their girlfriends like this."

"Huh, is that right? Then, I changed my mind. I do _not_ want to be your boyfriend."

She gave an exasperated laugh. "Tell me, seriously. Why princess?"

His face grew thoughtful. "It's just how I think of you. You're beautiful and kind and good and pure…." Clearing his throat, he looked down, embarrassed by the candidness of his answer. "And if you don't like it, I can come up with something else."

"No, I didn't say that. I like it." Her grin almost split her face in two as she pressed her full, soft lips against his.

Just before they could really get into it, she spun herself out of his grasp with an apologetic look. "I have to go." She ducked around him and knelt to gather the empty flower pots, stacking them inside one another. He stood there, breathing raggedly, not at all sure what had just happened.

As she walked away with her arms full of gardening tools and flower pots, she looked back at him with an impish smile. "Oh, and we're going to the dance dressed as an angel/devil couple."

He batted his eyelashes at her. "I'm the angel, right?"

She laughed. "We'll have fun. I'll show you how _not_ prudey I can be."

That certainly sounded interesting. Before Damon could think of a witty reply, she vanished.

* * *

 _So, all that wanted to come out this time was D & E being cute together. _

_Luckily, I can already sense that the next few upcoming chapters will be_

 _darker and sexier. ;)_


	9. Chapter 9

He opened the passenger door, and Elena unfolded herself out of his blue Camaro.

She was easily the sexiest little angel he'd ever seen. Her long brown hair had been given unusual wavy body and a set of white, sparkly wings peeked over her shoulders, throwing moonlight around the parking lot. The material of her dress was a bright, diaphanous white that hung long in the back all the way to her calves and short in the front as high as mid thigh. Her sleeves were tight to the elbow where they flared open, flowing loosely the rest of the way to her lovely hands. Above her head floated a silver halo that was attached to a headband hidden in her hair. She wore white pearls at her throat, ears, and delicate wrists. A single pearl descended on a silver thread to nestle between her cleavage, drawing the eye to the swell of her breasts.

When she bent to adjust one of the straps on her high heels, he slammed the door shut.

She straightened and approached him. This close, he noticed her eye shadow was sparkly, and a shiny layer of gloss reaffirmed how exceedingly kissable her lips were.

Absently smoothing the red tie he wore, Elena's eyes wandered hungrily over him. She started with his face, all perfect bone structure and intense blue eyes and black hair so thick and artfully mussed it was begging for someone to run her fingers through it and mess it up for real.

Then her gaze dropped to take in his crisp blood-red suit, its fit and cut emphasizing his well-proportioned form. A tie the same blood red shade lay smoothly against a black silk shirt. A black silk handkerchief poked out of his breast pocket.

Her eyes dipped even lower to his pelvic region. He felt himself stir under the heat of her appraisal.

"Elena, do me a favor," he said with every intention of flustering her, because a flustered Elena was so goddamn adorable, "my eyes are up here."

Her cheeks flaming, she blurted, "I wasn't-" She released air out the side of her mouth. "I was just wondering if you're sure you don't want to wear some horns. Maybe carry a pitchfork or something?"

He did that eye-thing he knew drove her crazy. "I'm not devilish-enough looking for you?"

She regarded him warily. "No, you definitely look like the prince of darkness himself."

He offered his arm and teased, "And you look like the innocent little angel I'm going to enjoy corrupting." His eyes glowed with a fiendish blue light. "Careful or you might end up trading in your halo and wings for some sin and debauchery before the night is through."

"That's kind of what I'm worried about." She looked away and placed her hand in the crook of his elbow. "Can we go in now? It's starting to get cold."

His eyes narrowed. Vampires didn't get cold. "Of course."

Following a bunch of other students wearing costumes, they approached the front doors. She entered first, and he trailed behind her. Watching her white dress swish from side to side as her hips moved, he idly wondered what sort of little panties she had on underneath. Maybe a thong. He hoped it was lacy. And see-through.

He decided it was imperative to indulge his curiosity immediately; else he'd go crazy trying to picture what was beneath her costume. His hands landed on her waist, steering her down an unlighted hallway branching off from the well-lighted main hallway.

She balked and spun, facing him while still grudgingly walking backwards. "This is the wrong way."

Without acknowledging her, he continued into the abandoned part of the building, pressing her onwards. Her high heels clicked briskly on the tile floor, while he moved silently, a jungle cat padding through the undergrowth at night, prey already in its sights.

"We're not supposed to go this way!"

"Gasp! Do you think we'll get in trouble?" He backed her up against a locker. A faint mocking smile danced upon his lips. Deftly securing both of her wrists snuggly in one hand, he pinned them against the locker directly above her head, her elbows flaring out to the side, mimicking the glittery wings sprouting from her shoulders. Her silky white sleeves fluttered loosely around her head.

"We're not supposed to be here," she objected weakly again for some reason.

This girl sure enjoyed the pretense of protest. Too bad her body had already betrayed her. Her heart raced from his proximity, making her blood hum divinely through her veins, and all around him floated the exquisite scent of her arousal.

"I need to know what I'm working with tonight," he rumbled softly, leaning in so closely their noses practically touched.

She responded by arching her spine, rubbing those lush breasts against his chest, and shifting her legs wider.

Eyes gleaming in anticipation, his free hand skated up her inner thigh, right past the hem of her little white dress. When his fingers encountered nothing but slick heat, his face went slack, and he stared at her in disbelief, completely blindsided. "You're not wearing anything."

An alluring smile snuck across her face. "Happy Halloween."

He growled approvingly and slammed his mouth over hers. As they kissed, his fingers explored, delving, stroking, quickly learning the ways in which she enjoyed being touched.

This wasn't what he'd set out to do. Nope, just a quick panty-check, because he didn't have the will power to wait until the end of the night, followed by maybe a little teasing and tormenting, so she'd suffer like he did, and then they'd go to the dance.

But everything about this girl made him insatiable, wreaked utter havoc on his self-control. Now he was as lost to this moment as she was, mouth moving possessively against hers, fingers buried all the way inside her.

God, and she was so wet, already ready for him. Her body didn't want him to stop any more than he did. When his thumb brushed over a sensitive spot, she rose onto her tip toes, gasping into his mouth.

"We have to at least make an appearance tonight," she reminded him breathlessly.

"You think so?" he whispered, increasing the speed of his fingers.

An "mhmm" barely managed to squeak past her kiss-swollen lips.

His fingers were merciless in their assault, infused with a hungry intensity. "Cause your friend would be upset if she didn't see you there, and that'd be bad."

"Mhmm," she again somehow was able to say. She strained against his hold on her wrists but was in no danger of breaking free.

God, she was so close. He could feel it in the way she writhed helplessly against his hand, could see it in the tension mounting across her pretty features, could hear it in the sexy little moans she frequently uttered. Her reactions were so beautiful, so genuine. Just like her.

"And if I just fucked you right here like I should," he pointed out huskily, "you'd scream so loudly we'd definitely get caught, and that'd probably be bad, too, right?"

After several seconds, she nodded slowly, incapable of thoughts coherent enough to form words. She was desperate with the need to climax, riding his fingers wantonly, eyes fluttering open and closed.

Abruptly, he stilled his hand before she could find the release she earnestly sought. Raising his hand up from under her dress, he tapped gently on her bottom lip with one of the two fingers he'd had inside her.

"Naughty little angel, do you want to know what heaven tastes like?"

She answered his question by parting her lips and engulfing his index finger, sucking it clean with light swirls of her tongue, cheeks drawing inward. His jaw clenched imagining that hot, wet mouth and that flitting pink tongue doing similar things along a certain part of his anatomy that currently throbbed rebelliously against the confines of his slacks.

Withdrawing his finger from her mouth, he stuck the second one, his middle finger, between his own sensual lips and slowly pulled it out clean.

Her pupils dilated at the sight.

He hadn't thought anything could taste as good as her blood. Apparently, he was wrong. The taste of her luscious sex almost made him fall to his knees and shove his face between her thighs so he could have more.

But, no, if she'd rather go to some stupid dance, then that's what they'd do. Barely retaining his wits – seriously, he deserved an award or something - he released her wrists and gestured back the way they'd come with a grand sweep of his arm. "After you."

Rubbery arms slowly falling to her sides, her jaw worked in frustration over the cruel way he'd left her dangling. "You are such an ass."

One half of his mouth curled up wickedly. "And that turns you on, doesn't it?"

With a shaky sigh, Elena thrust her chin forward and held her hand out. "I need a drink."

Adopting an innocent look, not something he did particularly well, he held his hands up to show they were empty.

She huffed, "I know you have some. Hand it over."

"Easy there, lushy." Concealing a grin, he withdrew a flask from an inside pocket of his red suit and passed it to her.

Quickly unscrewing the cap, she upended it down her throat for a brief second. After swallowing, she shuddered and grimaced. "Gross, bourbon." She deftly recapped the flask and walked away.

"Ahem," he commented dryly behind her, holding his hand out so she'd return his alcohol.

She fired an impudent look at him over her shoulder. "I know you brought more than one, so I'm keeping this."

She turned back around and flounced away, white flowy dress emphasizing the saucy swing of her hips, and he tumbled hopelessly head over heels in love with her for the thousandth time.

Even though it was so wrong. He shouldn't love her, even if she wasn't with his brother anymore. Stefan aside, Elena was still taboo. She was too innocent, too good to be with a monster like him. He believed that to the very bottom of whatever soul he had left. He'd made the wrong choice in loving Katherine, and he was making the wrong choice again by loving Elena. He was bad for her. But he didn't know how to stop loving her, which made him selfish enough to hope that she never figured that out for herself.

Catching up with her just before she reached the gym, they entered together.

Almost immediately, Caroline came bouncing up dressed in a huge yellow ball gown and yellow gloves that extended to her elbows.

"Elena, I love your costume. You look so beautiful," she greeted her friend with a hug, before she arched an eyebrow and turned a frosty gaze on Damon. "I thought the point of Halloween was to dress up as something you're not every other day of the year?"

The look Damon returned was much chillier. "And what are you supposed to be? A big slice of lemon tart?"

"I'm Belle," Caroline replied snippily.

At his blank look, she said, "The princess? Beauty and the Beast? Disney?"

His blank look never altered.

Caroline shook her head, elaborately coiffed ringlets bouncing. "I give up. You should watch it. You'd really relate."

"Caroline," said Elena, "you promised you'd be nice."

"You're right." The blonde girl pasted a huge fake smile across her face. "It's so good to see you guys. I'm glad you finally made it."

"Thank you, Care." Elena smiled leniently. "The party looks great."

Caroline just nodded in acknowledgement, because it did. The gym was dark and spooky and decorated with the appropriate cobwebs and pumpkins and ghostly figures. There was a haunted house in one corner from which lots of shrieking originated.

Elena rethreaded her arm through Damon's elbow. "Come on, let's go get some candy."

As they walked away, he asked, "Did Blondie just insult me using a children's cartoon?"

Elena burst out laughing. "She really did."

At the refreshment table, she found a bowl of candy and spent several minutes picking out her favorites. As she ate them, he made a mental note to have those brands of candy stocked at the house, so he could feed them to her in bed whenever she required a breather between their innumerable bouts of sex.

Having popped the last piece of chocolate from her pile in her mouth, she rested an index finger on her bottom lip as she chewed. Swallowing, she observed, "I think every girl in here is staring at you. At least, all the ones with eyes."

Smoothly acquiring the hand she had raised to her face, he brought it to his lips and whispered against her warm caramel skin, "What girls?"

Her smile revealed her delight at his response. "Wanna dance?"

Like he could ever refuse that.

They danced at first to music that was upbeat, but gradually, one of the songs the DJ played was slow. Elena molded herself against him, and he pressed his cheek against the top of her head, not even minding that her halo was in the way.

When the song was over, Bonnie appeared at their side. She was dressed as a sexy, purple witch. "Can I borrow Elena?"

Damon scowled at the witch. Elena laughed and stood on tiptoe to brush her lips against his. "I'll be right back."

Left to his own devices, he wandered off the dance floor. Standing with his back to the wall, his glowering demeanor kept any hopeful dance partners away. Gaze drifting over the dance floor, he spotted Caroline dancing with Klaus. The Original was wearing a blue suit with yellow trim the same shade as Caroline's poofy ball gown. They looked revoltingly adorable.

His attention slid to the haunted house where numerous shrieking students spewed out its bowels. He enjoyed their fear. It made him peckish. How loudly would they scream if they knew real monsters were among them?

Suddenly, slicing through the music and chatter like a laser beam, Damon heard Elena's voice, faint as a whisper yet unmistakable: " _Damon, come find me_."

Turning on his heel without a moment's hesitation, he made for the doors. As he strode with animal grace through the crowd, he felt lust and hunger stirring, rising, a potent combo. He always enjoyed a good hunt.

Bursting through the gym doors, he stood alone in the hallway. Once the double doors clicked shut behind him, muting the chaotic sounds of the dance, he fell utterly still, not a single muscle twitching. He closed his eyes and inhaled once. Without the slightest bit of effort, he detected Elena's scent over the myriad other smells vying for prominence in the school hallway. He followed it unerringly to a classroom on the opposite side of the building, no longer even trying to move as a human, flowing noiselessly through the dim school corridors like a ravenous, terrifying shadow soaked in blood.

The classroom door was closed when he arrived. He reached for the door handle only to find it locked. Rage flared at this obstacle between hunter and prey. He ripped the door handle off and the door also, right off its hinges. It flew across the room to smash across some desks.

Looking around, he didn't see her. Was he in the wrong place? He inhaled deeply. No, her mouth-watering scent was everywhere. She was here.

And, interestingly enough, someone was bleeding close by.

Priorities. Where was Elena? He spotted a second door, a closet behind the teacher's desk. Ghosting over, he opened it.

The closet was bigger than normal since it was a connecting passage between the two adjoining classrooms. In the middle stood Elena, drinking from the carotid artery of a girl dressed as a sexy skeleton.

At his sudden appearance, she looked up and grinned sheepishly, two adorable little streams of blood trickling down her chin. "Hiding from you was the trick, and she was supposed to be your treat, but…I got hungry and couldn't wait. Want some? She's really good." She thrust the girl in Damon's direction.

Hell no, there was only one treat he was interested in right now. He took his eyes off Elena only for the amount of time necessary to snag the human girl's arm and grit out, "Forget this happened. Leave. Now."

Successfully compelled, the girl stumbled away. He instantly forgot about her.

Hooded gaze snapping back to Elena, he stalked forward, trapping her against the wooden door that formed the back of the closet. Pressing his palms to either side of her shoulders, he enclosed her within his powerful frame to prevent her from escaping.

He'd captured her, so she was his to enjoy.

At first, her eyes were wide like a startled deer's. Then, her lids grew heavy. She slowly licked bloody lips, rousing his desire to an urgent level.

"Found you," he taunted softly. "Now, what?"

"Now you kiss me," she informed him brazenly. Her lips parted, face turning up to his eagerly as she anticipated his kiss. He leaned in, but rather than going for her mouth, his head dipped so he could lick at the blood drizzling down her chin, tongue darting out as tenuously as butterfly wings.

Then, he drew back. "You're right, she is tasty." He leaned back in and licked the remaining blood on her chin.

"Damon!" she complained impatiently. Fast as a striking snake, she grabbed the back of his head and yanked him in for a hard kiss. If his mouth wasn't otherwise occupied, he'd have laughed. He loved that he drove her into such a demanding frenzy.

As they kissed, he pushed her harder against the door, and her legs rose to wrap around his waist, locking at the ankles. Her little fangs scraped lightly over his thrusting tongue, and she suckled at the blood, driving him into a whirl of brutal need.

The only thing separating him from being inside of Elena was a pair of pants that he could easily remove. His knees nearly buckled when this realization struck him. One arm went beneath her ass to give her more support, and the other went straight to his fly. Only two more buttons. One now undone – fuck it, he was just ripping the last one off.

A heartbeat away from being inside her, Elena suddenly looked up at the ceiling and grabbed his face with both hands. "Damon, wait."

"What? Why?" He did not want to wait. Every bone in his body was telling him that this was exactly what he shouldbe doing. And his heart agreed.

Pressing her lips together, Elena's gaze reluctantly slid down to meet his. One hand went to his tie, stroking it gently. "You don't want our first time to be in a school closet, do you?"

"I take it from your tone I'm probably supposed to say no?"

The plaintive look she gave him fucking ripped him to shreds. He barely resisted the unproductive impulse to bash his head against the wall. There was a split second surge of anger that she had the nerve to ask this of him after she'd started a game that she had to have known would only end one way. The anger was followed by a searing wave of resentment that she seemed able to turn it on and off so easily while he felt like he was stuck in permanent, relentless on. Then, the anger and resentment slid away as rapidly as they'd appeared. Those emotions weren't sustainable when he knew there wasn't a single malicious bone in her body.

He placed both hands back beside her and bowed his head. His fingers scored the wood, leaving behind grooves in the door. Shoving away from her, he jammed a hand through his black hair and swore harshly, "Fuck."

"You're mad."

"No, Elena, I'm not _mad._ I'm just…. _"_ His arms fell limply, and he looked at her with a completely unguarded expression. "I'm just not very good at waiting, especially when it comes to you."

She smiled sweetly. "It won't be for much longer. When we get back to your place, I promise." She held out her hand. "Come on."

"Gonna need a minute," he griped, gesturing to the bulge straining his red pants.

Elena's gaze dropped to his crotch, and her mouth opened as if she were going to speak. Then, it snapped shut. Still staring at the visible evidence of his arousal, she raked her teeth over her full bottom lip in an innocently sensual manner that forced him to warn her, "If you want to get dragged back over and fucked senseless, keep looking at me like that."

She blushed, eyes darting away. "Right. I'll just wait outside."

While he was scrubbing a hand down his face and trying to think of unsexy things _,_ he heard Elena say his name with fear.

There was no hesitation as he went to her side – she was afraid, and he couldn't help but instantly respond to her distress.

He discovered her staring at someone who sat atop of one of the desks in the front row, legs kicking idly.

Kai. A white lollipop stick stuck out one corner of his mouth which he grabbed as Damon emerged. "Whoops, hope I'm not interrupting."

Damon brushed past Elena and stood in front of her, shooting a swift glance at the open doorway.

"Don't worry," Kai informed him, "no one will be able to hear or see us until I want them to. Invisibility spell." Sticking the red lollipop back in his mouth, he said, "Nice costumes, by the way. Totally dig the symbolism. Very apropos."

"What are you doing at my school dance?" Elena inquired harshly.

"Your boyfriend's going to help me ritually murder a lot of people, and we still need to iron out some of the specifics." He looked pointedly at Damon, one cheek distended from where he stored the lollipop as he spoke. "I decided I was a little too hasty the last time we met. Going right for the throat, threatening to kill Elena, probably wasn't the best approach to take with you. So, we'll start smaller and gradually work our way up."

"What is he talking about?" Elena demanded.

"I'll explain later, I promise." Damon leveled a piercing glare at Kai. "I apologize if trying to set you on fire wasn't clear enough for your dumb ass, psychotic witch-brain. I'm not helping you do anything unless you also have a death wish, in which case I can be a little more accommodating."

Kai lifted a hand up chest level and pointed at Elena. "Let's start with some simple bodily harm. The kind she'll heal from."

Damon took a step forward. "Okay, hold on, there's no need to be hasty-"

"Damon!" Elena's voice cut off on a pained gasp, causing him to look at her sharply.

She clawed blindly at her chest. At first, he didn't understand what he was witnessing, in fact didn't see anything except the bloody gouges she was carving in her own flesh with her fingernails. He thought at first maybe Kai was tricking her, making her hallucinate some illusory affliction.

But then he realized what was happening when he noticed her daylight ring slowly dissolving, the hot metal scalding and blistering her beautiful skin. The silver, pearl-encrusted bangles on her delicate wrists and her pearl necklace also bubbled and seared wherever they lay against her body. Kai was making her jewelry melt at a temperature that scorched right through her skin, burning through to the muscle and bone underneath, making her a sobbing, incoherent mess.

It occurred to Damon that he ought to try to attack Kai even though he wouldn't be successful. He might manage to distract him though, force him to leave her alone, perhaps give Elena a window to escape. But as quickly as the thought flashed across his mind it vanished. Elena's cries were slicing through him like razorblades. All he could do was clutch her to him futilely as she sank to the ground screaming wordlessly.

"Enough!" he snarled at Kai. "Okay, enough, _stop_!"

Kai slowly let his hand drop back onto his knee. However, Elena didn't stop screaming. The damage had been done. She'd heal and soon, but not soon enough for Damon.

"That just never gets old. Hurting people, I mean." Kai's smile was delighted and cruel. He looked at Damon. "So this means you're on board now?"

Staring at Elena's tear-streaked, agony-ridden face, Damon said, "Just tell me what to do."


	10. Chapter 10

"Tell me you're not going to do what Kai wants."

He looked at her reflection in the mirror from where he leaned tiredly over the bathroom counter. He'd taken off his jacket, and his tie hung loosely around his neck. Similarly, Elena had removed her halo and wings but still wore her long flowy angel dress. All of her jewelry was gone, destroyed. He recognized that dreaded Gilbert stubbornness in the cant of her jaw and sighed. She was all filled in and ready to fight, but he found himself too weary to argue.

"Elena, it's been a long night." Not really, but it felt that way. "Could we maybe do this some other-"

"Please tell me you're not!"

His eyes snapped with cold blue fire as they met her gaze in the mirror. "Need I remind you what happened tonight?"

"No, I was there."

"Enlighten me, then, Elena. What's my alternative? Do I just let him come up with another way to torture you? Do I let him kill you?" His hands tightened on the counter enough to crack the surface. "You no longer have a daylight ring because he _melted it through your finger_."

"I was _there_ , Damon. That doesn't justify doing what he wants. That doesn't justify killing a bunch of innocent people."

"I'm not putting you through that again." He straightened up and turned, agitation riddling his posture as he crossed his arms, the black silk of his dress shirt straining over his shoulders. "I won't let him hurt you again."

"That's not what I'm worried about. If Kai gets what he wants, think how many more people will end up dying. You can't help him. Help me find another way."

"A hundred and thirty two minutes."

"What?" His non sequitor threw her off-balance.

His focus on some unknown point in the distance, his mouth a bleak line, he informed her, "That's how long it was from the moment Ric died in my arms until you came back as a vampire. That's how long I thought you were dead. A hundred and thirty two minutes."

Her face softened, and he continued, lowering his voice, "No one knew you had vampire blood in your system. The entire drive to the hospital, I thought you were dead. Really dead. It wasn't some mistake, either, or Ric would still be alive. You weren't coming back as a vampire. No one had done a magic spell for you. _Nothing._ You were just gone." He was silent for a moment before his voice returned, hard as steel. "I'm not going through that again. I won't."

Elena's face was crumbling, her lips trembling, yet she remained unbearably beautiful. "You still can't kill all those people."

Yes, he could. Easily. "I don't care about them. I care about you."

"No, if you cared about me, you wouldn't do this. There are other ways, and we'll find them! Please, Damon, I'm asking you not to do this."

Rage blossomed inside his chest at the impossibility of his situation, the incompatibility between his competing desires to keep her safe and make her happy. No matter which choice he made, he might end up losing her, but at least in one of the scenarios she stayed alive.

"I am not Stefan!" he exploded. "You can't ask me to let you die! I would burn the world and everyone in it to ash before I let you anything happen to you."

"That's insane." She clasped her temples. "Damon, that's not healthy."

"Have you met me? Name one thing about me that is." His face was almost sad as he gently shrugged his shoulders, the severity of his tone softening. "You know I'm not a good person. I don't know why you're expecting something different."

She gave him a heartbreaking look, and in that moment he found himself hating that he was too fucking selfish to do as she asked, that his choices always ended up hurting her. But how could he choose differently when the alternative might be losing her forever?

He moved close, clasping her cheeks between his palms to prevent her from speaking further. "I will always do whatever it takes to protect you, Elena. There is no line I will not cross, and if that upsets you or makes you hate me," brilliant blue eyes searched hers, "then I guess it's a good thing I have an eternity to earn your forgiveness."

She sniffed and looked away. "It's not right, Damon."

"I know." He pressed his forehead against hers. "I know, princess, I'm sorry."

He wasn't sorry about killing some random people. He was capable of much worse for her; no soul-searching required for him to know that to be absolutely true with a bone-deep surety. He was only sorry for hurting her in the process.

At first, his kisses were soft, questioning, hesitant. He half expected her to turn away, reject him. But she stayed still, allowing his lips to move over hers, so he grew bolder, more demanding until she wasn't able to remain impassive, her mouth opening for him like a slow-blooming flower.

As their kisses deepened, her fingers snuck their way up his untucked shirt, sliding across a ridge of muscle to slowly wind through the black hair descending from his navel, making his stomach muscles clench involuntarily. Her petting was tentative like she didn't want to touch him but couldn't help herself. .

When her finger tips brushed along the waistband of his pants, he whispered against her mouth, "Stay with me tonight." He couldn't bear the thought of facing the darkness alone. He wanted to find refuge in her softness, her light.

She drew back, jerking her hand away as if his skin was hot enough to burn. "I can't."

"Why not? What is it this time?" he said sullenly. "We have a bed."

She turned away from him and wrapped her arms around herself. "Our first time is not going to be on the eve before you commit mass murder."

He couldn't help the irritability that permeated his words. "You sure have an ambitious vision of what our first time should be like."

She looked at him over her shoulder. "And you don't?"

Honestly…no. At this point, he'd fuck her in a trash can. "That's not what I meant." He closed the distance between them with a single step. "Please, don't go. I promise I'll behave."

He wrapped his arms around her midsection and pulled her into him, her back to his chest, nose rubbing in her sweet-smelling, silky brown hair. He felt her surrender and relax, melting bonelessly against him. He planted small kisses on the back of her neck, his only intention to make her feel good.

One hand slowly traveled down her stomach, his fingers gently sliding between her legs, only the thin gauzy material of her dress preventing skin-to-skin contact. He began to rub in slow circles while his lips continued their soft caresses on her neck. She sighed slightly, a gentle exhalation of air that communicated her pleasure.

"Say you'll stay, Elena." He cringed internally at the degree of pitiful hopefulness that laced his plea.

She clamped down on the hand caressing between her legs, her fingers curling around his wrist, arresting his motion. "Say you're not going to do what he wants."

"I can't."

"Then, I can't stay, Damon, not like this." Propelling herself out of his arms, she made for the door.

Just like that he was reliving every time before when the girl he loved didn't choose him, that old wound of never being good enough ripped open yet again before it ever had any chance to heal, eating away incessantly at his insides like acid. What he and Elena had between them was still so new, so fragile that he didn't know if it would survive this fight, or if what they had had ever really been anything at all. Maybe this was it, this was all he was going to get, and she was going back to where she'd belonged all along – not with him.

Before she could get to the door, he appeared in front of her and took both of her hands between his. "Wait, before you go, can I ask you a question?"

Her look was cautious. "I'll probably regret this, but sure, I guess."

His chin fell almost to his chest, gazing across at her through black lashes. When he spoke, his voice was thick and raw. "Are you mine?"

Confused, she blinked. "I don't understand. Are you asking if you're my boyfriend, because I thought we already established that."

"No, Elena," he snapped coldly, "I mean, _are you mine?"_

Angry and frustrated, he was taking it out on her, but the problem was him. He wasn't articulating himself right, wasn't really sure what he was trying to say. Before she walked out that door, he needed to know – what? That she felt for him even a tenth of what he felt for her? That she hadn't decided she'd made a horrible mistake? That she wasn't running right back to his brother the first time there was a bump in the road?

He tried again. "Is this – are we real?"

"You mean am I going back to Stefan?" She hurled the words at him like a spear, pulling her hands from his.

Aiming his own barb, he sneered, "Thought'd crossed my mind. Doubt my brother had to jump through so many hoops before you slept withhim."

Her face instantly assumed the expression and pallor of someone who'd just been sucker punched.

Fuck, why did he say that? He reached for her hand again. "Elena-"

She violently avoided his touch. "I'm going to say this once, because I get that you have a legitimate reason to be insecure about it, but then I don't want to talk about it ever again, okay?"

He nodded mutely, subdued by the force of her anger.

Speaking slowly and deliberately, her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. "I'm not going back to Stefan. He and I are done, and I don't want to be with him anymore, no matter what happens between us."

One of those glittering tear drops glided slowly down her cheek. He longed to say something, _anything,_ to remove the pain from her eyes because it was killing him, but everything he said was the wrong thing and just ended up making things worse. So he said nothing.

Another tear fell. "Good night, Damon." She ghosted through the doorway, leaving him alone.

He went to the door with the purpose of closing it but instead found himself leaning his forehead against the heavy wood and staring down at the ground.

Tomorrow night he planned to kill twelve innocent people in order to protect the girl he loved, and he didn't even care. What really bothered him? She'd never answered his question. _Are you mine?_


	11. Chapter 11

The hunting knife's six inch blade was keen and razor edged, the brown leather wrapped around the hilt providing a secure grip. It lay innocuously on a tree stump, still in the same spot where Kai had laid it. Damon had yet to touch it, even though all he had to do was reach out and pick it up and use it to kill the twelve people, compelled into obedient silence, arrayed behind him.

They were just random people he'd found wandering the outskirts of town: hikers, druggies, one unlucky sap on the side of the road with a flat tire. Who the people were didn't matter; Elena was pissed no matter what, so he'd chosen to just go with efficiency. Be done with this as soon as possible.

Then this would all be over. And Damon needed this to be over, needed the blood to dry, so he could start doing whatever it took to regain Elena's good graces. Hopefully, Kai, once he got what he wanted, would move on and torture someone else far, far away from here.

The infuriating memory of his conversation with Kai in this same spot a few hours earlier wound its way through his brain once again.

" _Do you want to tell me what the hell we're doing out here?" Damon's voice carried easily in the clear night air. It had just turned dark, but the moon clearly illuminated the clearing in the woods. Trees stood like silent sentinels all around them._

 _Dressed for a cool autumn night in jeans and a dark jacket, Kai extended his arm straight out, pointing somewhere behind Damon. There was a knife in his hand which he looked down as if it had a scope on it. "I consecrated a circle over there. All you have to do is lure twelve people out here and kill them. With this. A magic knife." Kai walked a few feet to his right and set the blade down on a waist-high tree stump. Damon made no move to approach it. "Use it to sacrifice whomever you like as long as they're inside the circle when you kill them. The knife will absorb their deaths, storing the power. Then, you bring the knife to me, and I suck the power out of it. Yummy."_

 _Damon gritted his teeth and said simply, "I do this, and you never come anywhere near Elena again."_

" _Sure, Damon, after you complete this and the other sacrifice needed for my immortality spell, I'll let you screw up your relationship with Elena all on your own."_

 _Blood throbbed at Damon's temples and heated the skin around his eyes as they turned red with murderous fury. Without hesitation, he bee lined straight for the witch, putting all of his formidable age and strength and power into the dash, hoping to catch Kai unprepared. If he could just get his hands on the little shit, he'd rip him limb from limb and make a pretty necklace out of his entrails for Elena._

 _Kai flicked his wrist nonchalantly, freezing Damon in place as he assumed control of the vampire's body. He forced Damon to his knees. A smile still pulled Kai's lips upward, but his eyes had narrowed to contemptuous slits. "See how easily I bring you to heel?"_

" _What do you want from me?"Damon snapped, still able to talk at least. "Why are you doing this?"_

" _You know, that's probably the most annoying question I get. Everybody always wants to know why, why, why did you have to do that terrible thing or why did you have to kill that person? The answer is that I didn't. Can't I just do something because I want to?" Kai leaned forward and whispered conspiratorially, "Maybe I'm just bored, and I like fucking with you."_

 _Damon's lips eased back from his fangs menacingly. "I am going to eat your heart."_

" _Well, then, that's a powerful incentive to hurry up, don't you think? Can't eat my heart if you can't find it." Kai's sinister grin widened. "Chop, chop."_

Closing his eyes, Damon cut off the memory. He summoned to the fore that part of himself that could easily kill, would revel in it, even. When he reopened his eyes, he focused again on the knife resting so serenely in front of him, listened to the the multiple heartbeats beating a fearful tattoo behind him, pumping so much blood he'd be able to gorge to his heart's content.

 _Just turn it off. No hesitation. Don't care. Don't feel. Don't think about Elena. Turn it off and do it._

As he spent a tenth of a second pep talking himself, there was an audible _whoosh_ of air, and the knife disappeared from sight, spirited away by an unseen force. Behind him, he heard the gurgling of lungs that attempted to inhale oxygen but filled up with blood instead, followed by the heavy thud of twelve bodies falling to the ground one by one in rapid succession, like macabre dominoes.

A total of four, maybe five seconds and all twelve people lay dying.

He turned slowly, apprehensive as to what sight was about to greet him.

Standing on stiletto heels in the middle of a circle of death, Katherine Pierce coolly met his gaze, one hand poised on her slim hip while the knife dangled carelessly from the fingers of the other, moonlight glinting off the now-bloody blade.

He exclaimed, "You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Could this night get any worse?

The corners of her pouty, full lips curved into a taunting smirk. "You're welcome."

* * *

 _Elena's POV_

Her eyes snapped open, and she shot upright, clutching the covers to her chest. No moment was needed to acclimate, to transition from deep sleep into full cognizance, not like when she was human.

Nor did her eyes need time to adjust to the darkness of her bedroom. Plenty of moonlight streamed in through a window she was one hundred percent certain had been closed when she went to sleep. A cool breeze offered to her heightened senses all the smells of a Virginian night, and gently intermingling with them she detected the subtle scent of dark spice.

She didn't see anyone, yet she knew she wasn't alone. Her body was humming, the way it always did when he was near.

"I know you're here." Her words were barely audible. Nevertheless, the recipient would hear them.

"Damon," she called again softly.

Suddenly, a dark figure perched at the foot of her bed. All she saw was his back. He was bent forward, hands between his knees, head down. Even completely still, she instantly perceived his unstable mood. Energy seethed dissonantly around him, and violence rode him like a second skin.

"Didn't mean to wake you," he said. "I know I shouldn't be here, but…." He laughed bitterly, and she winced because she could tell the cutting edge was aimed at himself. "It's been a rough night. Needed a little good in it."

He glanced at her over his shoulder, and she froze as those blue eyes met hers, her heart skipping a beat. Stray black tendrils of hair hung charmingly down his forehead.

Her fingers clenched around handfuls of her sheets. "What happened?"

He looked away and didn't respond.

"Did you…?" She couldn't bear to finish her sentence and wouldn't have been able to anyway; her throat closed up, and her lungs quit working.

"Kill those people? No, but I would have."

Air rushed joyously back into her body as she resumed breathing. "So, why didn't you?"

"Because Katherine showed up and killed them instead. I'm surprised you didn't know that already, since she informed me _you're_ the one who summoned that snake-hearted bitch out of whatever godforsaken hole she'd slithered off to."

It was true. Elena'd been forced to find a way to contact Katherine, but desperate measures had been called for. She certainly hadn't _wanted_ to ask Katherine, her evil doppelganger and her boyfriend's slutty ex, for anything, but no other options had existed that she could get her hands on in less than twenty-four hours.

Slowly untangling herself from the sheets, she crept on her hands and knees down to where he sat at the edge of her bed. Because she was very aware that a tight maroon red tank top and a pair of navy blue panties constituted the entirety of her pajamas, she stayed behind him, but came close enough to place a hand on his back. The already rigid muscles tensed even more which she felt through his leather jacket. Smooth white skin on the back of his neck where his raven hair didn't quite touch the collar of his jacket peeked through and drew her eye. Her fingers slid up and stroked the pale flesh, traveling slowly along the protruding vertebrae, up and down the valleys and crests.

"I was trying to help you. I had to do something."

His head shook once angrily. "Next time, stick to people who want to be helped. You shouldn't have gotten Katherine involved. I know you think you helped, but you've only made everything worse."

Stung, she said defensively, "I couldn't let it be you who killed those people!"

It was horribly stupid and petty of her, those people were still dead either way, but she was fiercely glad that he hadn't been the one to do it, that she had at least succeeded in sparing him that. No matter how much he pretended like nothing affected him, she knew that he wouldn't walk away from murdering those people lightly. And knowing that he would assume that burden for her broke her heart.

She added, "Believe me, if I'd had any other option I would have done that instead."

"It doesn't matter," he said despondently. "Who cares who wielded the knife? Kai still got what he needed, and now fucking Katherine's back."

She shifted, her hand sliding from his neck to cover one of his where he had them fisted in the air between his knees. His fist unclenched, allowing her to thread her slim fingers around his strong ones. They sat like that for a moment, connected by the warmth and comfort of their hands.

"We'll figure it out," she promised him, "together."

He tightened his grip on her hand and sought her eyes, saying a bit desperately, "He's not finished. He still needs one more sacrifice to complete the ritual and become immortal, and he expects me to do that, too."

"Bonnie's still searching through her grimoires," she attempted to reassure him, "and Caroline thinks that Klaus might have some other resources which could prove helpful."

"Did you seriously just use Klaus and helpful in the same sentence? Are you insane?"

"I'm not any happier about it than you are, but anything's better than you…." Her voice trailed off. She took a deep breath. "Don't give up hope. We'll figure something out, I promise."

She must not have been very convincing because he turned to her and begged, "Can we talk about anything else?"

"Okay." She smiled nervously and scooted back, lying down without getting back under the sheets. She patted the space beside her in invitation. Granted, having Damon lie beside her in bed was maybe not the wisest idea, since it would be intimate in a way that felt dangerous when she was trying to stay angry at him, plus she was wearing almost next to nothing, but they'd be able to talk more easily if he didn't have his back to her.

He looked at her hand on the bedspread and then up at her, his gaze lingering long enough to absorb the amount of skin she had on display, before he sighed and turned away.

"Come on," she coaxed.

Swiftly, he settled in beside her, reclining on top of the covers, hands under his head. He remarked, "Just remember this was your idea."

Breathing in deeply the arousing scent that saturated the air, the rich leather of his jacket and the darker, spicier scent of his skin, she swept her silky mass of hair behind her, turning on her side so she could gaze at him. His profile was riveting, masculine perfection, all angles and hard lines done in haunting shades of black and white. His mouth was made for sin, the shape of his chin strong and firm. With only moonlight for illumination, dark smudges of shadow clung to the hollow of his cheek and the corners of his icy blue eye.

His mood remained dark and unhappy, but the air around him no longer felt so ominous and unpredictable like a powder keg that may or may not go off at any moment.

When the corners of his eyes tightened faintly, she inquired, "What are you thinking?"

His nostrils flared, and his mouth acquired a disgruntled lilt. "You don't wanna know."

"Yes, I do. Tell me." When he opened his mouth, she quickly interjected, "The _truth_."

After a pause, as he obviously had to rethink whatever snarky thing he'd originally intended to say, he said, "I was thinking that you should be with Stefan. That if you were still human, you would be. You'd be Stefan's girl, and all would be right with the world."

She frowned. "I told you I didn't want to talk about Stefan again."

"Good, me either. Just answering the damn question."

Her mouth thinned into a tight line. She needed to squash this now or he was going to allow his insecurities to come between them. "You're probably right, you know."

"About what?"

'That if I were still human, I'd be with Stefan."

His dark brows knit. "Didn't we just establish like two seconds ago that neither one of us wants to talk about this?"

She went on ruthlessly, "And, while we're imagining alternate versions of our lives, maybe I never would have been with Stefan at all if you hadn't compelled me to forget that I met you first. Maybe I would've always been with you." Yeah, she was rightfully bitter, and that bled into her tone. "I guess we'll never know."

"Do you really want to get into all the things I should have done differently with you? It'll take a while. At least until, oh, I'd say, Christmas."

"No, what I want is for you to focus on what's real." She was finally able to offer the reassurance she couldn't last night in the heat of their argument. "This, us _, we're_ real."

"We're real." The words rolled over his tongue as he tested them, seeing how they sounded out loud.

"Yes," she affirmed, "so don't ruin it, okay?"

His lips twitched and then stretched into a grin. "Yes, Miss Gilbert."

He really does have amazing lips, she thought, distracted and fascinated by the half she could see. They were light pink and firm, perfectly formed, straight from her deepest fantasies and seriously addictive. She could kiss that mouth for hours and never grow bored.

When the urge to actually kiss him almost overwhelmed her, she rolled onto her back, creating some space between them. Did he always have to be sexy as hell? And did she always have to notice?

 _You're supposed to be angry at him,_ she scolded herself sternly, _not thinking about how sexy and kissable he is_. _Which he is. Very. Both sexy and kissable._

Mental shake. "That doesn't mean I'm not still mad at you," she said out loud, unsure which of them she was trying to convince. She inhaled deeply and then confessed, "I feel like I should be better at remembering that I'm mad at you. I had no problem remembering earlier, but now…" She sighed ruefully. "It's really hard when I'm right next to you."

He flashed a seductively crooked grin in her direction. "Shouldn't that be my line?"

She was so happy to see cocky, playful Damon emerge that she rolled back on her side and snuggled closer, returning his smile.

"I'm serious," she scolded mildly. "Right now, I should be furious at you because of the things you're willing to do, and I _am_ , but I'm also…." Closing the distance between them, she rested her cheek on cool black leather and placed a palm on his chest, the gray shirt he wore no barrier to the heat of his skin. "I'm also really glad you're here, and that you're okay."

His lips pressed lightly against the top of her head, and the hand behind his head closest to her drifted down to rest upon the curve of her hip. He lapsed into silence again, closing his eyes, and she was content to follow his lead.

Lying beside him in the darkness, his delectable blood called sweetly to her as it raced by just beneath the surface of his skin. Her eyes slid open and fixated on the pulsing veins visible in his neck. She wanted to reach up and touch him so badly it was like a physical ache.

Should she? Was it the right thing to do? She felt like she'd waited long enough to be with him – well, maybe she hadn't, but she didn't want to wait anymore. She wanted him _now_.

But things weren't fixed between them. After all, nothing had been resolved, not really. He still intended to kill again in some misguided attempt to protect her. How could she be with him when he was capable of doing something like that?

But how could she not be with him when she loved him so much?

Ugh, her head and her heart hurt. She didn't want to think about this anymore, so she decided to just stop thinking all together. Damon and thinking didn't really seem to go together anyway, at least, not for her. Not when just the sight of him reduced her to a state of temporary insanity.

When she darted a glance up at him, his eyes were still shut, lashes a dark sweep above sculpted cheekbones. Tentatively, feeling a bit like a suicidal moth that couldn't resist fluttering around the edges of a deadly flame, she reached up and traced his jugular, her path beginning right below his ear and concluding at the hollow of his throat.

. He shuddered, the hand on her hip beginning to draw small circles on the supple bare flesh just below her panties, soft caresses that emboldened her even as they spread goose bumps all over her body.

Her fingers journeyed further, past his thundering heart, over a hard nipple, between the bumps of his ribs, and down the flawlessly chiseled planes of his abdomen, always the thin gray cotton of his shirt between them. That didn't stop hard muscles from leaping at her touch.

She made it all the way past his navel to the daunting bulge at his waist, the outline unmistakably clear through his pants. She'd seen him naked before – _gulp_ – for like half a second, but he definitely hadn't looked like … _this_ at the time. Her fingers danced by a few times before returning to linger with feather light touches.

His breath hitched. His hand froze atop her hip.

Encouraged by his reaction, she slowly tip toed her fingers down the side of his hard length, around the base, and back up the other side. She crested the top once more and paused to glance up at him. His eyes were still closed.

This time, the edge of her nail trailed lightly down the center of the thick shape and then even more slowly back up. By the time she had executed this maneuver a few times, she didn't know who she was teasing more, her or him, but she did know that it had become essential for his pants to come off. He needed to be free and unrestrained so she could admire him up close and at her leisure _._

As she started jerking impatiently at his fly, he captured her hand with one of his. When she looked up, she caught a flash of blue through black lashes.

"I'm not in a good place right now, Elena," a husky voice warned her. "My control isn't what it should be."

"What does that mean?" she asked breathlessly. Was he implying he'd be out of control? Rough? Her mouth went dry while her brain easily concocted a very graphic image of hardcore, sweaty, mind-blowing sex with Damon as he worked his frustrations out on her oh-so-willing body.

 _Yes, please!_

He interrupted her wishful thinking. "It means you're right. Our first time should be more than a hard, brutal fuck, but that's all I'm capable of right now." Bringing her hand to his mouth, he gently kissed the ends of her fingers one after the other. "You deserve better."

Bemused, she arched an elegant brow. "Okay, who are you and what have you done with my boyfriend? Damon Salvatore would _never_ say that we should wait."

He laughed once, a savage thrust of air from his lungs. "I know, right? The irony."

Pushing up on an elbow, she looked at him earnestly. "I can handle it, whatever you want. I'm strong now, like you."

He pressed his lips against her palm. "Yeah? Think so?" His eyes shone with a mocking blue light that instantly made her feel stupid and self-conscious.

"Jerk." She tried unsuccessfully to regain control of her arm.

He resisted. "C'mon, little girl, you're so strong now. Let's arm wrestle."

"Stop it!" she squealed, attempting in earnest to get away from him. That led to a tussle which resulted in him somehow ending up on top of her. His gaze locked onto hers with stunning force, rendering her breathless, her momentary pique completely forgotten. Damon brushed his knuckles along her jaw, a gentle touch that left tingles behind.

He asked wonderingly, "You'd really let me do whatever I wanted to you?"

"Yes." _God, yes,_ please _._

After a moment, he laughed. "You are the most confusing girl I have ever met in my entire life."

His statement seemed to be rhetorical, luckily since she didn't know how to respond, so she tangled her fingers in his hair, using the silken black strands as handholds to pull him in close for a kiss. Their lips met lightly, tenderly. She traced the shape of his mouth with the tip of her tongue, then nibbled enticingly on that beautiful bottom lip.

He drew back and breathed, "Elena," reverently whispering her name as if it were a prayer that had the power to save him. Lowering his mouth to her throat, he moved across her skin with barely there brushes of his lips until he reached the beginning swell of her breasts.

Lifting his head and looking up, he asked in a low, melting tone, "Will you let me touch you?"

She swallowed hard, stomach fluttering. "Yes."

"Turn over."

She turned onto her side while he settled in behind her, wrapping his arms securely around her midsection, molding her against his lean, muscular frame. She relaxed completely, cocooned in his heat and his strength and his scent.

At first she supposed he might be rough, because of what he'd said earlier, and she was a little disturbed by how much that thought excited her. But, he kept whatever he thought she couldn't handle tightly restrained, touching her instead with heart-melting tenderness, light caresses that set her on fire and left her devastatingly weak. He nuzzled into the curve of her neck, grazing her flesh with fangs before immediately replacing the brief sting with the soothing balm of his tongue. The hand underneath came up and gently cupped her breast. His other hand slid between her tan, taut thighs and rubbed over the top of her little blue panties, which made her toes curl.

"Do you ever touch yourself like this, Elena?" His breath drifted warmly over the back of her neck.

She was grateful they weren't facing. His question made her cheeks flush. Since becoming a vampire, her hormones had been through the roof, so the answer was a very emphatic yes.

Before she had time to think – and really, how _could_ she think when he was doing such marvelously wicked things to her – words escaped her lips of their own accord. "Almost every night before I go to sleep. Sometimes when I wake up, too."

To reward her for her honesty, his hand slipped under her panties and stroked her wet heat with fingers that knew exactly where to go and what to do. She writhed with pleasure, clutching at the strong forearm across her chest, nails digging half-moons into black leather.

There was another gentle scrape of teeth followed by soft licks at the base of her neck. His hips rocked slightly, keeping time with his fingers, hard length thrusting rhythmically against her backside.

"What do you think about when you touch yourself?" he asked.

"You." Mortifying. Why did she just admit that?

He made a pleased sound deep in his throat. "And when you cum, what are you thinking about then?"

"You," she panted. Again with the annoying honesty. What was wrong with her?

As she strained against him and her nails dug even deeper into his sleeve, he whispered, "Are you going to cum for me now?"

"Yes." Every beat of her heart sounded like an explosion in her ears as she raced toward the precipice he was skillfully guiding her towards.

"Will you be thinking of me?" he asked.

"Yes, yes, yes," she moaned, the word becoming a chant that ripped from her throat as she hurtled toward her release.

His fangs fully pierced her throat, an injection of white-hot ecstasy. That intense sensation combined with a light swirl of his finger, one last expert application of pressure, left her weightless. When a warm tide of bliss swept through her, it would have washed her away, had he not been holding onto her so tightly.

As the last glorious waves of pleasures slowly receded, she sagged limply in his arms. She hoped she never had to move, and, honestly, didn't know if she could.

His mouth lifted away from her neck. He wiped away any residual blood with a velvet tongue. Dear god, her body responded instantly to those tender, heated caresses, already demanding more.

His mouth floated up to her ear. He whispered, "I love you, Elena."

The desire to say those words back to him rose in her with the overwhelming strength of a tidal wave. She glanced over her shoulder because she wanted to look into his eyes when she told him that she loved him for the first time, but he wasn't there. The comforting, solid warmth of his body was absent.

She sat up, desperately looking around her room, but there was nothing to see except for the lazy movement of white curtains billowing around an open window. She was alone.


	12. Chapter 12

_Damon's POV_

Damon was in a good mood. No, scratch that, he was in an _excellent_ mood despite the fact that he couldn't locate the bottle of wine for which he'd been hunting for the better part of twenty minutes. The wine cellar was large, and while he knew it was down here somewhere, he couldn't remember exactly where. He was beginning to suspect that Stefan had moved it in an act of revenge during one of their many fights over the past decades. Still not enough to dampen his excellent mood.

And why shouldn't he be in fine spirits? Not only was Elena not irreparably mad at him, she'd also admitted her feelings for him were real.

He'd wanted her so fucking badly last night, and if he'd stayed in that bed with Elena for even one more second, she'd have wound up naked underneath him. Not that that was a bad thing, far from it, but…he didn't want any stain from Kai on their relationship…at least not any more than there already was, so he would – _sigh -_ wait. Did he care about the how or where or when? Not even the slightest bit, because he loved her no matter what. But he realized that something like the significance of their first time would matter to Elena, so he wanted it to be special for her. And after everything else he'd done wrong involving her, he was determined not to fuck this up, also. Maybe that would be one small way to make his many sins slightly, _slightly_ less terrible.

So, yeah, he was in an amazingly wonderful good mood as he searched through the wine cellar for a very specific bottle of wine he'd been saving.

Until he heard the heavy sound of his brother's heels striking the concrete floor behind him. The echo was annoyingly loud in Damon's ears. Wonderful. Somehow, he just knew this was about to be an instant buzz-kill.

He half-turned and assessed his brother's mood in a single glance. The dim light cut Stefan's face in two, one half in shadow, the other half like a portrait carved from humorless stone. Damon said with the slightest smirk, "I see the mood today is bleak and broody with a lingering hint of disapproval." He waited for a response, but none came. He waved his hand at the rows upon rows of wine bottles stored in shelves along the cellar walls. "You haven't seen a bottle of Cheval-Blanc somewhere around here, have you? I can't seem to find the damn thing-"

His fist a blur of motion, Stefan clocked him right in the kisser. Damon's head snapped around, forcing him to grab the wine case in front of him for balance. Once he was steady, he winced and rubbed his jaw. "Let me guess, that was for Elena."

"She's supposed to be with me," Stefan spit out. "You shouldn't even be here."

Damon turned to his brother, hand falling away from his face, features settling into a scowl. "You're the one who asked me to stay, remember?" He elaborated his point with a very unflattering imitation of Stefan's voice: " 'Imminent danger; Elena might need you; help us'."

His younger brother gritted his teeth. "Yeah, I wanted your help, because you're my brother and I thought you had my back!"

"I do-"

Stefan cut him off. "Oh, you do? Is that why you stole my girlfriend, Damon? You know, I keep waiting for her to realize that she made a horrible mistake, that she can't possibly be happy with you."

Even though Stefan's words were pretty much an exact replica of the doubts that constantly looped through his brain, or maybe _because_ they were, a flare of rage spiked through Damon. "What do you want me to say, Stefan? I'm sorry that this hurts you, I am, but you know me. I don't have the strength to say no to her."

"Of course not, because you're selfish and you do what you want and you don't care who you hurt in the process, even your own brother."

Damon's lips curled grimly. "Yup, that about sums me up. Are we done yet? I was kind of in the middle of something."

Stefan punched him again, and even though he saw it coming this time, he made no effort to dodge out of the way. The impact sent Damon sprawling. "Oww, what was _that_ for?" He dabbed gingerly at the blood leaking from his nose.

"That was for trying to handle Kai on your own. Because unlike you, I actually do have my brother's back."

Regaining his feet, Damon wiggled his jaw from side to side. "Yeah, really feelin' the love right now." He looked down to make sure blood hadn't dripped onto his shirt. Fuck, it had. He'd need to go upstairs and change.

Stefan encroached on Damon's space until the brothers stood nose to nose. "Protect her, or, I swear, the first time you screw up, I'll stake you myself."

Damon tilted his head and examined his brother like he was something nasty he'd discovered on the bottom of his boot. Once the tension had spun out to near unbearable lengths, he said softly, "I'll let you."

Stefan pivoted and left. Apparently, he'd said all he'd needed to say.

No matter, because there, lo and behold, was the bottle he'd been seeking, visible now that Stefan's hero hair was no longer blocking his view.

"Huh, look at that. Right where I left you." He withdrew it from its cool hole, inspecting the label to make sure it was the correct bottle of wine. Discovering that it was, he located a glass decanter and opened the bottle so it could breathe. The scent struck him instantly, a complex, powerful aroma. The wine had obviously aged very well.

Poured out into the wide, clear decanter, the wine was a deeply colored red like the color of clotted blood. Elena had texted him earlier that day to say that she was coming over as soon as it was dark. It was already late evening, so this way the wine would have time to air and settle before he shared it with her.

Once he was done decanting the wine, he made his way back upstairs since he needed clean clothes. If his mood hadn't been disrupted by that altercation with his brother, Damon wouldn't have been so distracted that he didn't hear the water running until he opened his bedroom door.

As soon as he entered his room, the sight of steam wafting through the air greeted him. He moved further in and caught sight of a resplendently naked Elena reclining in his tub, a seductive nymph with long, wet hair, damp latte-colored skin, and high, full breasts just barely peeking through the froth of bubbles and steam. The sight froze his lust-stupid brain in its tracks. Everything ground to a halt, except for his dick which swelled to attention with admirable haste.

Elena leaned forward and turned off the faucet, halting the flow of hot water. When she noticed him standing there, she leaned back and stirred slim fingers through the sudsy water. "Hello, handsome. Hope you don't mind."

He cleared his throat and grinned. "Of course not. My tub is your tub." Approaching, he squatted and placed his elbows on the ledge of the tub, fascinated by the way droplets of mist meandered down warm brown skin. He envied every drop.

"Good, I'd hate to think I was in your way," she said with a coy smile.

"Not possible." God, she was so beautiful. The water temperature was just shy of painfully hot, and each whisper of steam licked over her naked skin in a way that he longed to imitate with his tongue. He reached out and slid his hand through wet locks of dark brown hair that had snaked over her shoulder and made their way down between her exquisite breasts. His fingers halted just before they would have dipped beneath the bubbles.

"After last night, I needed a long, hot soak," she told him, arching into his caress.

He laughed. "And I needed like three cold showers."

Tilting her head, she regarded him with a sexy pout. "Poor thing, let me make it up to you." She curled one finger in a beckoning gesture.

Like a fucking moron, he hesitated.

She splashed her hands in the water, her dark gaze lingering on his mouth. "You're not really planning on leaving me in this huge tub all by myself when it's clearly designed for two, are you?"

He opened his mouth to tell her that he thought they should wait until everything with Kai was finished and they could do it right, but then he heard a slosh of water and long willowy arms twined around his neck, drenching the top half of his shirt, though he definitely couldn't have cared less. The words died on his tongue as she looked at him with those soul-snatching brown eyes.

With perfect clarity, he envisioned exactly how it would be: Elena braced against the rim of the tub, on her knees in the water as he took her from behind, driving into her with all of his might, one hand tangled in her hair, yanking her head back, the other feeling up those soapy hour-glass curves.

On second thought, right now was probably as good a time as any.

He started undoing the buttons of his shirt. "Well, when you put it like that…."

She leaned in and kissed him with lips glossed with moisture.

Right away, he sensed something was off. His hand encircled her throat, and he surged upright, slamming her against the wall behind the tub. Water sluiced enticingly down every one of her stunning curves, over every expanse of soft, tan flesh.

 _Keep it together, Salvatore,_ he ordered, willing himself not to look down.

"You," he snarled, beyond pissed that he'd fallen for one of Katherine's favorite games.

"Me." Katherine laughed, clearly enjoying the moment much more than he was. "I couldn't help myself. It doesn't sound like goody two-shoes Elena's taking very good care of you."

Out of nowhere, like magic, Elena's voice sounded behind him. "Damon? Can we -" She stopped speaking abruptly, her words replaced by a sharp inhale.

He glanced over and sure enough there was Elena in his room staring aghast at the sight that confronted her. His mouth went dry. He knew exactly how this looked with his partially unbuttoned, soaked shirt and his hand on Katherine who was covered in nothing but a few scant patches of bubbles, water still trickling down naked skin.

Katherine's eyes darted between Damon and Elena. "The looks on your faces right now are _price_ less," she offered delightedly.

Damon whipped back around. "Shut up." He jerked his hand away and turned to go to Elena. But she'd already disappeared. Shit.

He darted after her, catching her by the elbow just before she disappeared out the front door.

"Elena," he said desperately, drawing her back, away from the door, "come on, you can't honestly believe I'd have anything to do with her on purpose?"

She didn't answer and wouldn't look at him. This close, he could smell her lavender-scented hair and the sweetness of her skin, and he wondered how he could have ever mixed her up with Katherine. His jaw flexed. _Because that manipulative bitch knew exactly what she was doing, taking a bath in my bathroom and pretending to be Elena._

Scowling fiercely, he asked, "You think I'd be unfaithful to you?"

"No," she eventually answered, rubbing her hand over the nape of her neck. "No, I don't think that." She sighed and looked up at him, dark eyes watering. "It just really sucked to see you like that with her."

He murmured, reaching for her, "The only reason I kissed her is because I thought she was you. Forgive me?"

She repeated woodenly, "You kissed her?"

He winced internally. "Right, you didn't see that."

"Nope." Elena closed her eyes and appeared to be counting backwards silently.

Brows drawn, he scrambled to think of what to say to make this better.

Before he could, Elena's eyes reopened, and her head shook ruefully. "Of course I forgive you. It's my own fault, I guess. She's only here because of me."

Wearing a relieved look, Damon grabbed her hand, needing to reassure her again that it was just a mistake. "Elena, I would never…" His words trailed off as he realized she wasn't listening to him but rather was peering hostilely over his shoulder. She quickly slipped around him and marched up to Katherine who was slinking down the stairs in a black silk robe, hair wrapped up in a towel on top of her head.

In a cold, cruel voice, Elena said, "You shouldn't be here. You need to leave."

Katherine raised her eyebrows disdainfully. "Are you always this rude to someone who just did you a favor?"

"You're pathetic," Elena hissed with narrowed eyes. "No one in this house likes you or wants you here, and yet you keep hanging around, ruining our lives."

The elder vampire scoffed, a sound that managed to be simultaneously elegant and cutting. "I'm the one who's pathetic? That's funny, cause _you're_ the one who invited me here so _you_ could keep pretending like your boyfriend isn't a ruthless, sadistic, murderous vampire." She pursed her lips quizzically. "How long do you think you two'll last, when you won't even let yourself see him for who he truly is?" Katherine bit her lip enticingly and winked at Damon. "I get it though. The sex _is_ amazing."

Okay, he needed to put a stop to this. Katherine and Elena interacting on any level was definitely not good. Yet, he found himself transfixed, unable to move.

Elena stared daggers through Katherine. "He didn't _want_ to kill those people."

Katherine flicked her fingers dismissively. "Maybe not, but he still would've enjoyed it. And, now, so would you."

Elena's chin jutted forward. "You don't know anything about him. Or me."

"So defensive. Did I strike a nerve?"

Elena's hands clenched. "Just stay away from my boyfriend."

"Please." Eyes gleaming mischievously, Katherine gazed past Elena at Damon. "If I'd wanted him, he'd still be mine, and we all know it." Then, she aimed a smile that was pure venom at Elena who was so angry she had yet to respond. "Friendly tip: he likes it when you nibble right on the end of his-"

Finally recovering the ability to do anything other than just stand there like a gaping idiot, Damon jumped and warned with a quelling look, "Finish that sentence, and I will gag you with a stake."

Smiling slyly, like a house cat fat on stolen cream, Katherine sauntered towards the kitchen. Looking back over her shoulder, she said airily, "Don't worry, I'm only here for Stefan. Hope you're not going to want him back."

Elena glowered at her doppelganger's back as she disappeared from view, saying loudly enough that Katherine would certainly hear, "I hate her so much." Dark veins were beginning to appear around Elena's eyes.

"Yeah, everybody does." Coming up behind her, Damon placed his hands on her shoulders and massaged the tense muscles. They felt tight as bridge cables. He spun her around so she was facing him. The veins had receded but a distraction was still desperately needed, and, fortunately, he had just the thing. A little bit earlier than he'd expected, but he could certainly make do. "Come with me? I have a surprise."

She responded by looking at him strangely, but she allowed him to pull her along with him by the hand. As they descended the cold, dank stairs to the cellar, he said nonchalantly, "It sounded like you wanted to say something before … Katherine happened."

She nodded slowly. "Umm, yeah, I did." She took a deep breath, and when he glanced back at her, one step behind him, she met his gaze with determination etched throughout her delicate features. "I'm coming with you tonight. No matter what the plan is, I'm coming"

He sighed. Not this again. "Elena, there's no plan, okay? No last minute hail mary or get outta jail free card. I'm just going to do what Kai wants, so that all of this will be over, and I really don't want to spend this little bit of time with you fighting about it again."

"Fine, no fighting, but I'm still coming with you."

He stared at her like she'd suddenly gone completely batty. Which maybe she had. "How is that even a remotely good idea?"

"I'm not just going to stay here imagining every worst-case scenario I can come up with. I'll go crazy."

When he pulled up short on the bottom stair, she was forced to halt abruptly in order not to run into him. He snapped, "And how do you think I'll feel if anything happens to you? I'll go completely fucking insane! I'm not letting you anywhere near Kai. No."

"It's my choice, Damon."

Ire blazed in his blue eyes. "No."

"My choice," she repeated with a gentle shrug. "I'm not letting you do this alone. I've already made up my mind."

Her stubbornness was both extremely infuriating and endearing. With an aggravated sigh, he concluded, "Then I guess there's no point in arguing."

"None." Standing on the step above him put her at the perfect height to lean in for a kiss, which she did. Her lips brushed sweetly over his.

When she drew back moments later, she looked breathless and dizzy, overwhelmed by even that brief contact with him.

With great reluctance, for he wanted nothing more than to continue kissing her, he finished guiding her to the wine cellar.

"Wait here," he said, letting go of her hand and directing her to stand beside the barrel on top of which sat the wine he'd decanted from earlier.

After disappearing for a few minutes in the dark recesses of the cellar, he emerged holding two wine glasses.

Gesturing to the empty wine bottle beside the decanter, he told Elena, "I'd been saving this for – " He faltered. He'd almost said for Katherine, aka for when he'd finally freed her from the tomb. He recovered smoothly. " – for a special occasion."

"It looks old." She wrinkled her nose at the faded, dusty label.

"This is a Chateau Cheval-Blanc from 1947. This might be one of the only bottles in existence." His tone implied that she should be impressed.

"So, it _is_ old. Good thing I have a soft spot for old things."

"Rude." He frowned, though his glacial blue eyes shone playfully.

"You're very well-preserved," she assured him teasingly.

He picked up the decanter and swirled the dark red liquid around inside. "Hopefully, this wine is too."

As he poured some wine into both glasses, she asked, "How much longer until you leave tonight? Until _we_ leave tonight?"

He attempted a smile but didn't quite manage it. "Soon."

When they each had a glass, he held the wine up, gazing through the liquid, then tilted the glass to the side and watched how the color changed. Then, he brought the wine to his nose and took a deep inhale. She copied him with exaggerated seriousness.

"Alright, smartass," he said, "you try it first."

She raised the glass to her lips and took a sip. She looked at it in surprise. "It's good."

"Mhmm." He took a leisurely swallow. Good didn't even begin to describe the taste of the wine. Velvety hints of plum, leather, and chocolate mint slid like silk down his throat. It was incredibly rich but not heavy on the tongue. Exquisite and worth the wait and there was no one he'd rather share it with than the girl standing right in front of him.

The girl who was currently chewing adorably on her bottom lip as though she had something to say but wasn't sure if she should.

"What?" he inquired after another swallow of wine.

"Do you think you would still love me if I didn't look like her?" There was no need for Elena to specifiy whom she meant by 'her'.

There was the slightest stain of red wine above her perfectly shaped upper lip. He reached out and brushed it away tenderly with his thumb. Even just that light, simple touch sizzled with electricity. Her eyes darkened with want.

"Do you feel that?" he asked, taking her chin between his thumb and forefinger.

She nodded.

"Even if I was blind and deaf, I would still be able to feel you, Elena. So, yes, I know I would." His hand fell away

Elena slowly sipped on her glass, appearing pleased with his answer. After a minute, she looked at him somberly through long lashes. "Last night, you just left without giving me a chance to tell you-"

"It's okay." He tugged gently on the soft hair framing her face, rubbing the dark strands between his fingertips. "You don't need to say anything."

"I want to," she insisted. "Even with everything that's going on, I need you to know that I do love you."

His initial reaction was a brief widening of his eyes as he found himself robbed of every thought but one: Elena fucking Gilbert had just said she loved him, and she kind of sounded like she meant it. He was unable to prevent this idiotic little smile from spreading across his face.

His happy expression elicited a smile from her, too, and she repeated, "Damon, I love you."

He took her wine glass away and set it down. Then, he was kissing her like crazy, like he might die if he deprived himself of her any longer. Her taste was divine, sweeter than the finest wine, and he craved it like…well, like a vampire craved blood. He clasped her cheeks in his palms, the soft touch of his hands at odds with the hard possessiveness of his mouth and the savage thrusting of his tongue between her lips.

She returned every ounce of his passion, molding herself instinctively against his powerful body. Her fingers started in his silky raven hair, nails raking across his scalp. As they descended the back of his neck, he felt the moment when she encountered the wet neckline of his shirt, because she tensed unhappily. Clawing her fingers in the damp cloth, she ripped right through it, using her vampire strength to shred the shirt from his body. Thus she destroyed the last reminder of the trick Katherine had played on them.

She leaned back, which caused his arms to lower and encircle her waist, and placed her hands on his chiseled pecs. Slowly, intentionally, she dragged her nails down his chest, leaving streaks of blood behind, so vibrantly red against his pale skin. He hissed at the stinging pain but wasn't inclined to stop her. He already knew Elena was going to be a little hellcat in bed, and the thought pleased him immensely.

Her head dipped, and she swirled her tongue in the crimson liquid, all of his good intentions melting away with every satiny stroke and flick of wet heat against his flesh. He barely restrained himself from sweeping her up and carrying her off to his bed.

While he wrestled internally for the strength not to give into every one of his basest impulses with Elena, she whispered hoarsely, "I know we don't have time right now, but I really wish we did."

His breath shuddered through him. "Well, I mean, how much time do we really need?"

She gave him an affectionate look and tweaked his stiff nipple, making him grunt. "Quickies come _after_ we've had plenty of time to properly explore. At least twenty-four hours."

"That's not nearly enough." He was being completely serious. Nothing would ever be enough. Not with this girl. Not for him.

She giggled, and his mouth claimed hers once more.

Even knowing objectively that it was the right thing to do, he still couldn't force himself to separate from her. Not when actually being with her felt this fucking good. With his mouth still covering hers, he groaned, "God, Elena, when this is all over, you are going to get the night of your life, I guarantee it. And then, say you'll come away with me. I'll take you anywhere you want to go."

Drawing back so she could look directly at him, she beamed, beautiful beyond words. "Yes, that sounds incredible. Really, anywhere?"

"Anywhere, as long as you're with me."

This time, his kisses were slow and gentle, saturated with desire, designed to raise her arousal to a feverish level. She never even noticed his hand moving or the syringe full of concentrated vervain until it was too late. As he injected her in the side, she had time for one single outraged glare before her eyes rolled up in the back of her head and she collapsed against him.

"Sorry, princess," he whispered, smoothing her hair from her face, "but I can't let you can't come with me tonight."

* * *

 _I promise I'm only setting our protagonists up_

 _for some fun future situations! I'm thinking that there will_

 _probably be 5 or 6 more chapters til this story's finished, depending on how_

 _I decide to divide them up or barring any more crazy ideas occurring, so there_

 _shouldn't be too much more._

 _And don't worry, I could never bear to give Damon_

 _anything but a happy ending...eventually. :)_


	13. Chapter 13

It was the exact same thing the second time around. Round up twelve randos and kill them with the magic knife inside the consecrated circle.

Blood streamed down his chin and soaked the front of his shirt. He licked his lips with relish, having drained the last victim almost to death's door before drawing the knife blade across his throat, ending the man's futile struggle for life. He let the body drop to the ground as he surveyed his handiwork. All twelve people dead or bleeding out on their way to dead.

He was finished. Now all that was left was to make his way to Kai, deliver the knife to the psychopath, and wash his hands of the entire affair.

Then it was off to deal with Elena and the aftermath of his actions. No doubt traveling the world together was not an option for the foreseeable future, but he'd win her back. She'd said she loved him. Okay, that was also right before he'd shot her full of vervain and locked her in a cell in the Salvatore basement, so that might not be true anymore, but he'd done it once. He'd find a way to make her love him again. He had to. He refused to consider the alternative

The sound of clapping intruded rudely on his thoughts. Turning, he saw Kai obnoxiously applauding him while grinning from ear to ear. Arrayed behind him in the darkened woods was a cluster of zombies, no doubt anxiously awaiting whatever command their master saw fit to give. Above Kai's head, a vulture was settling in to roost on an overhanging tree branch.

"Magnificent. You, my friend, are a true artist," Kai said admiringly.

"And you are an annoying little troll, and we're not friends," Damon corrected. High on blood, Damon was already riding a killing edge, the insatiable predator in him howling for a chance at Kai. But he wanted Kai's death and no mistakes, so he would make himself wait for the right moment. He was only going to get one, and after all, he had every intention of fulfilling his threat to eat the bastard's heart.

Kai crossed his arms. "Whatever. I'm sure you want to get home to your girl, and I also have things I'd rather be doing. The knife, if you will."

Damon smiled a bloody smile that never reached his eyes. "So this is it, huh?" He palmed the knife and hefted it in the air a few times. "Once I give you this, you get everything you want."

"Not quite, not yet. There's one last crucial step." Kai walked away from the tree line, heading straight for Damon. He paused on his way to kick one of the bodies, head cocked, face inquisitive like he was merely a young boy kicking over an anthill so he could see what happened. After a few seconds, he moved on to the center of the consecrated circle and continued talking. "The spell allows me to remove my heart, but I'll still need to hide it somewhere safe where no one can find it. I'm thinking in an inter - dimensional portal, but they're pretty rare. The nearest one is in Tennessee."

"Blah, blah, blah, just as long as that translates into I never have to see you again."

Kai's eyes narrowed in amusement. "Oh, yeah, so, I've been meaning ask, has Elena given it up yet or is she still making you work for it?"

A icy black rage swept through Damon, and he forgot all about waiting for the right moment. He flung the knife with deadly precision at Kai's head.

Or at least that's the command his brain gave his body, but it failed to obey him.

"Ouch, I guess not," the psychopath said with a look of mock sympathy. "Now, if you could bring me that knife nice and slow-like, that'd be great."

Gritting his teeth, Damon found himself unwillingly walking over to Kai and offering him the knife, hilt first. As a small solace, he imagined using it to filet Kai. Guts would spill, flesh would peel away from bone, and most importantly, it would be slow and agonizing.

"Thanks, pal." Kai accepted the knife and wrapped both hands around the hilt. Damon noticed a weird red light pulsing around Kai's hands as he absorbed the death energy stored in the blade. Kai's eyes closed as a visible shiver coursed through him. "Oh, fuck, that was a rush!"

The knife fell to the forest floor, and the dark witch began to chant in the language of magic. Was he really going to do the spell to remove his heart right here, right now?

Ugh, apparently, so.

As Kai continued to chant, the zombies lingering at the edge of the clearing shuffled restlessly. The lone vulture hunkered down on his tree branch for safety, hiding his head under an inky black wing. The hair on Damon's neck rose as even he sensed the power swirling in the air. This was some seriously creepy-ass mojo.

And it only got creepier. A heart appeared above Kai's head. A _fucking human heart_ , like the bloody, ripped out organ just floating in the air. Drops of blood splattered down onto Kai's face, making him look as though he were crying bloody tears. The disembodied heart spun around a few times like a macabre toy top before it winked out of sight.

Delight surged across Kai's lean face, and he began to laugh gleefully. "I did it! Did you see that? It worked! God, I fucking amaze myself."

Wanting to distance himself from this unsettling scene, Damon took a successful step backwards and discovered that he had dominion over his own muscles again. It seemed Kai was too enraptured with his triumph to notice or care that he'd failed to maintain control of his unwilling partner.

Without hesitation, Damon sped forward faster than lightening and slashed his hand sideways through the column of Kai's neck. The young man's head went flying. It landed on its side, right cheek pressed into the leaves and dirt of the forest floor, a good ten feet from his still upright body. Blood flowed freely from his neck stump.

To Damon's horror, Kai continued laughing. "It really worked! You can't kill me! Some advice? I suggest you run before I figure out how to get reattached to my body."

Since it was sound advice, Damon took it.

* * *

Looking through the small opening in the door to one of the cells in the basement, he spied Elena sitting morosely on the floor even though he'd thoughtfully provided her with a perfectly good cot she could be using. Her hands rested on her bent knees as she stared down into her lap. Her soft, dark hair flowed around her face like a veil, shielding her expression from view.

He cleared his throat. "Stefan said he unlocked the door an hour ago, which begs the question, why are you still in here?"

"I didn't know if I had permission to leave." A snarl of temper lurked beneath her words.

One black eyebrow arched. "Don't you think you're being a tad bit dramatic?"

"You drugged me and locked me in a dungeon. I don't think it's possible to be too dramatic right now."

He rolled his eyes. "It's not like you left me any other choice. I couldn't let you do something so monumentally stupid."

"It wasn't your call, Damon!" She fell silent for a moment, then added, "Stefan always respected my choice."

Even though he didn't regret his actions, her words cut deep, yet another reminder that he'd never measure up to his saintly brother. "Yeah, and how did that work out for you? You died. Twice!" When his words were met with silence, he pushed the door open, rusty hinges squealing in protest, and stepped inside.

With vampire speed, Elena leapt up and sprinted towards him. When she got close enough, she drew her arm back and slapped him. Hard. The force rocked him back on his heels and snapped his head to the side. This was hardly the first time she'd slapped him, but now that she had enhanced strength, it actually hurt.

"I shouldn't forgive you," she told him. He hated how tight her voice sounded, knowing it meant she was fighting the urge to cry.

"I know," he agreed softly.

"I mean it, Damon, I shouldn't!"

"I know," he simply repeated as his heart sank. How could he have ever been so stupid as to allow himself to believe even for an instant that he'd get to keep her?

"You killed those innocent people?" she asked.

"It's over, Elena. That's what matters." His eyes pleaded with her not to pry any deeper. He really didn't want to go into the details.

"What _matters_ is a bunch of people are dead, and a bunch more are going to die."

"But not here! Kai'll leave Mystic Falls and be someone else's problem now."

"How noble of you." She drew a hand back in preparation to slap him again, but he snatched it in mid-air, infuriating her even more.

"Do that again," he warned, "and I'll bend you over my knee and spank you."

"You wouldn't dare," she hissed.

"Then don't fucking tempt me. If I thought it'd work, I'd've done it a long time ago."

Elena wrenched her hand out of his grip. "You're not even sorry, are you?"

"I'm sorry that I upset you." He tried to appear contrite.

"But you'd do it again?"

"Only to keep you safe! Only if I had no other choice!"

"You always have a choice, Damon! And if you're going to insist on making your own choices and damn what anyone else wants, then you could at least allow me the same dignity. Let me make my own choices." Her forehead wrinkled. "If I'm with you, is this what I should expect every time I want to do something you don't agree with?"

He didn't answer, too overwhelmed by conflicting impulses. He wanted to hold her, yell at her, shake some sense into her, and kiss her senseless all in the same breath.

"I can't keep having this same fight with you," she said when faced with his lack of a response. "How can I be with you when you make these kinds of choices? When you won't let me make my own choices?"

His face twisted. What did that mean? What was she saying? Cloaking himself in anger, because it was easier than dealing with the panic creeping in as he realized he was losing her, he snapped, "And how can you expect me to let you die? Never gonna happen, Elena. If I hadn't killed those people for that asshole, you would be dead. Please tell me you get that. Tell me you get that I did this to save your life!"

"Then maybe you should stick to people who want to be saved." She was around him and through the door before he could stop her, leaving him alone in the cell. Fishing a small velvet-covered box out of his pocket, he said quietly, "Bonnie finished this earlier today."

Almost out of sight around the corner, she glanced behind her, and spying the ring box resting in his palm, she hesitated. "My new daylight ring?"

He nodded. She returned and snatched it from his hand, then resumed storming out. With a sigh, his back found the cell wall, and he slid bonelessly to the ground, sticking both legs out in front of him as his head fell back against the rough stone.

He heard Elena's footsteps as she marched up the stairs and across the floor above him. He heard her angrily tell Stefan that she didn't want to talk right now. He heard the moment when she paused and opened the ring box. Her breath hitched at what she found inside, and he half-smiled. At least he'd gotten one thing right tonight.

* * *

An hour later that same night he stood outside on his bedroom balcony. The moon was bright behind him and the sky above him was clear as he stared forlornly back into the darkness of his bedroom without really seeing anything. He'd hoped the pleasantly crisp air would help to clear his head and enable him to think a way to earn Elena's forgiveness. Even though he knew that he had no right to expect her forgiveness, every fiber of his being still hopelessly needed it. But it wasn't working. He didn't know what to do.

He was caught completely by surprise when Elena appeared soundlessly between the double doors that opened onto the balcony.

To cover his surprise, he drawled, "Figured you'd be long gone by now."

"Yeah, me too."

He studied her intently as she came up beside him where his backside rested on the iron railing. Maybe five feet of space separated them, but there was a rift in between them that felt wider than the Grand Canyon. She had to be aware of his eyes on her, yet she carefully avoided even turning her head in his direction.

So, she was still angry. Still hurt. But she was still here when she could have easily gone home or, hell, anywhere else, so that had to be a good sign, right? God, he wished he knew what was going on in that pretty little head of hers.

"Does it fit?" He gestured at her hand. "It can be adjusted if it doesn't."

"No, it's perfect." She glanced down at the daylight ring on her right hand. Tiny diamonds surrounded the delicate oval-shaped lapis lazuli. The deep midnight blue stone was supported on both sides by a pair of elegant diamond butterflies. The rest of the slim band was made of white gold. "I love it. I wish it had been given to me under any other circumstance."

He flinched. "Elena, everything I've done…. It's only because I can't stand the thought of losing you. I lo-"

She raised her hand in a warding gesture. "Don't!" she demanded in a tone as brittle and cold as ice. She faced out, looking resolutely at the tree line. Somewhere nearby, an owl screeched. "It's over, right? We can just put all this behind us?"

"Yes."

"Then, let's do that."

Silence reigned for a minute or so before he cleared his throat and offered, "Drink?" He raised a glass filled with more of the Cheval-Blanc wine from earlier.

She nodded. "Please."

He walked over to the glass table on the balcony and poured her some wine from the decanter. As she accepted the glass from him, her lips quirked. "Is it weird that you already had a second glass out here?"

He resettled his backside against the railing and looked down into his glass. "You didn't know? I'm the optimist in the family."

His delivery was so dead-pan, one note of laughter escaped before she slammed her teeth together with a clicking sound. Elena's gaze dropped, and her knuckles tightened around the wine glass stem. A gentle breeze teased strands of her hair so that they undulated around her like a stormy cloud.

For several minutes, neither spoke, until Elena broke the silence with, "Teach me."

"What?" He hadn't expected anything further. She seemed done with him.

"The bird-thing that you do, summoning the crow. Teach me how you do that."

He frowned. "It took me years before I was strong enough to use my Power that way."

"But you didn't have anyone to help you. I have you," she countered.

 _By the fucking balls_ , he thought reflexively. He sighed and moved next to her, his hand coming to rest on the railing a few inches from hers.

"What do I do first?" she inquired.

"It helps to close your eyes."

She obediently shut them. He proceeded to explain as best he could exactly how it felt when he extended his Power, when he sent forth a probe seeking the nearest receptive mind. "It's always a crow for me. Try it, and maybe we'll see who responds to you. A doe. A vixen." He leaned in and said mischievously, "A naughty little minx."

Her lips twitched into a begrudging smile which she quickly erased. He watched her face settle into lines of concentration. Suddenly, she gasped and moved her hand over his, clutching it fiercely. Her eyes flew open, and she looked to him with excitement. "I felt it! _Something_ felt _me_!"

Smiling proudly, he jerked his chin. "Look behind you."

She turned in time to see a brown and white barn owl alight silently on the railing maybe ten feet from her.

"Oh!" she exclaimed, stepping backward into him. His arms automatically went around her.

"Beautiful and deadly. Suits you perfectly," he murmured.

"Will it let me touch it?"

"Only one way to find out."

With a deep intake of breath, she stepped free of his hold and moved towards the owl, who perched there serenely as though obeying the summons of newbie vampire girls was nothing unusual. It allowed her to approach close enough to where she could reach out and stroke its breast feathers, though she kept a wary eye on that lethally curved beak.

He heard her whisper, "Thank you," and then with one last solemn blink of its huge round eyes, the owl spread its wings. Elena retreated back to the comfort and safety of his arms, and the graceful bird flew noiselessly off into the night until it was lost from view among the trees.

As she stood there watching the bird fly away, he took the opportunity to sweep aside her hair, revealing the graceful curve where her neck and shoulder met. He found himself fixated on that spot. She had such an enticing scent. His head dipped lower, which only intensified her erotic smell, and he marveled at the sensual richness of her light brown skin. He wanted to lick it, run his tongue over every inch of that smooth, beautiful flesh. Because he couldn't help himself, because he had zero willpower when it came to Elena, his lips whispered along her neck, and Elena started, drawing in a quick breath.

She looked back and up at him with huge eyes, pink lips parting. Her gaze dropped to his mouth, and he watched her lick her lips. She swallowed audibly, then uttered a tremulous, "Damon…."

Before she could say all the things that he couldn't bear to hear confirmed out loud, he stepped back from her and asked, "More wine?"

She shook her head and set her glass down on the table. "I can't. It's late. I should go."

"Don't. Stay."

She opened her mouth to reply, and he read instantly the anguish and regret on her face before she made a sound.

Quickly, he said, "Before you say anything, I know that sex is off the table. I get it. It's just – " He stopped, then tried again. "Remember how you spent the night after that party you threw for me? We just fell asleep and woke up together? That was…nice. We could do that again. I'll be a perfect gentleman, I promise you." And he was officially completely pathetic. This girl had him practically on his hands and knees begging her not to leave.

She bit her lip as she looked at him. Then her eyes darted away, and she shrugged unhappily. "I can't. It's not you I don't trust. It's me. I can't think straight when I'm around you."

"Elena, I promise that nothing will happen. I won't let it."

"So, you're asking me to leave our collective self-control in _your_ hands?" She stared up at the sky and gave a skeptical laugh. "What could go wrong with that?"

He didn't really have a rebuttal for that, so he waited tensely for her rejection. Her gaze slid down to meet his, and she smiled, an unexpected flash of that innate sweetness that made her so beautiful. "Can I borrow a shirt? I'm not exactly wearing the most comfortable outfit to sleep in." She made a gesture that encompassed her jeans and long-sleeve top.

Shocked by her acquiescence, he managed to get out, "Of course, help yourself."

Turning, she melted demurely into the darkness of his bedroom. He could hear when she opened some drawers and began to rifle through his clothing, and it made him smile. Sipping the last of his wine slowly, he gave Elena plenty of time to change and hide herself under the covers. It was as much out of consideration for her modesty as it was a frank acknowledgement that he wouldn't be able to keep his promise if he saw her lush curves filling out his clothes.

Once he'd polished off the wine and made his way into the room, he pulled the double doors closed behind him. They shut with a gentle _snick._

Her body was a soft outline beneath sheets that she had pulled all the way up to her nose as if they offered any protection from him. Walking softly to the opposite side of the bed, his fingers worked nimbly to unbutton his shirt, though he left it on. If clothes started coming off, they'd be in trouble. After removing his boots, he lay down beside her, remaining above the covers. Slowly, the sheets lowered until her entire face was exposed.

"Damon?"

"Hmm?"

"I don't know how to be okay with everything that's happened."

What a coincidence. He didn't know how to make anything that had happened okay. "I know. Maybe we can talk about it in the morning?"

"Okay." She rustled under the sheets, trying to get comfortable, then, "Damon?"

"Hmm?"

"Good night."

He rolled onto his side and sent her a small smile. "Good night, princess."

His hand stretched out tentatively, barely grazing the tips of her fingers that poked over the sheets. He moved slowly, giving her plenty of time to pull away if his touch was unwelcome. But she left her hand where it was, and soon she fell asleep like that, her breaths deepening and evening out, connected to him through only the most tenuous physical contact, and yet, to Damon, it felt like hope, like maybe they _would_ be able to find their way through this. Somehow.

Gazing at her sweet face, so angelic-looking in repose, he prepared to wait for the long hours to pass until dawn, not expecting to fall asleep. But he did.

Which turned out to be a horrible mistake. His eyes shot open, and he jacked upright, somehow knowing that he and Elena were no longer alone. In the middle of his room stood Kai, wearing a long black coat and an obnoxious smile, looking far too spry for someone who'd just been decapitated.

Instantly, Damon slipped into a murderous rage. How dare this bastard come anywhere near Elena while she was so vulnerable. But of course when he tried to move, he found himself frozen in place. His gaze darted sideways to Elena, but she didn't stir, still lost in sleep.

"Hey, buddy, miss me?"

Damon's lids lowered, the hooded eyes of a predator. "Not the word I'd use. Aren't you supposed to be on your way to Tennessee?"

Kai shrugged. "We can always quibble about semantics later. The bottom line is I need to tie up loose ends and make sure you're not going to follow me. I realized I got a little excited and mistakenly revealed too much of my plan. Us evil villains do like to brag. So, I'm here to make sure that that's not going to be a problem. But don't worry, I have a little present that'll make it worth your while."

"I want nothing from you," he growled.

"Tsk, you don't even know what I'm offering yet."

"Doesn't matter."

Ignoring him, Kai approached the bed, and Damon thought he must look crazy as his facial features contorted themselves with the effort of trying to move, to jump across the bed and strangle the young man.

Kai crouched over Elena and pulled a small stoppered jar from his coat pocket. "Now, I have to warn you, lust spells really aren't my specialty. I hope I got the dosage right…" He opened the jar and dipped a finger into the liquid that was inside. He grimaced. "If it's too strong….well, if she were human, it would kill her. Since she's a vampire…." He winked. "Let's just say, you'll finally get what you want from her, and I'll get the head start I need." His finger emerged from the jar covered in a runny, red paste which he then smeared along Elena's lips. "There you go, buddy. You're welcome."

"Don't fucking _touch her_!" he snarled through clenched teeth. He didn't know what that fucking paste would do, but he knew without a doubt that neither he nor Elena wanted to discover the answer.

Kai stroked a clean finger along Elena's cheekbone. "So pretty. I bet it'd almost be worth it to stick around and watch what happens." Then he straightened and pocketed the little jar. "Oh, well, I'm off to hide my heart in an inter-dimensional portal in Tennessee. Hopefully, I'll see you again real soon." Pausing, he seemed to rethink what he'd just said. "But not too soon." He walked over to the balcony doors and opened them wide. Perched on the railing was a black vulture which hissed in greeting when it saw its master. Kai mumbled something and vanished, and the vulture took off into the air.

Kai's disappearance released Damon from his immobility, and the enraged vampire zoomed out onto the balcony, even though he knew it was futile and the prick was long gone. A single vulture feather floated through the air, and he snatched it, clenching it tight in his fist.

 _No, goddammit, this was supposed to be over!_ He'd thought he was never going to see Kai or have to deal with him ever again.

"Damon?"

He whirled to see Elena sitting up.

"What are you doing out there? What-" She stopped talking and brought a hand to her mouth.

"No, Elena, don't!" he cried.

Her fingertips came away stained red, and her pink tongue darted out to circle her lips. She glanced at him sharply. "What was that?"

He stared at her in dismay. Guess they were about to find out.

* * *

 _P.S_

 _Is anyone else both super excited that Friday is the new_

 _season premiere_

 _and super sad that it's gonna be the last time there's a_

 _new season premiere? :(_

 _#TVDForever #DelenaEndgame_


	14. Chapter 14

"Bonnie, please tell me you have an antidote or a magic herb or something! Please tell me you know what to do!"

The witch glared at Damon and replied tartly, "Well, if you could give me a little bit more to go on than it was 'red', maybe I would!"

She was sitting on one of the leather couches in the library. Elena sat beside her, wearing one of Damon's black button-down shirts and a pair of his black silk boxers, the clothes she'd borrowed for sleeping. Caroline was also present, sitting on the other side of Elena. For some unfathomable reason, when he'd called Bonnie for help, Bonnie had felt the need to also call Caroline. And with Caroline came Klaus, so the Original stood attentively nearby. Stefan paced in front of the fireplace, because he lived here, and Damon couldn't exactly keep what was happening a secret from someone who had vampire hearing. Thus, way more people than he'd wanted involved were gathered in the library and had been for the last half hour in order to help him figure out a way to counteract the lust spell Kai had put on Elena. Since they'd come up with jack shit, he was getting frustrated.

At least there was one small blessing: Katherine was nowhere to be seen. No doubt they had Klaus's presence to thank for that. Though judging by the way he was focused on Caroline, Damon didn't think the doppelganger bitch was very high on the hybrid's priority list right now.

"What good are you if you can't even identify a simple lust spell?" Damon griped.

"Because it's not _simple_ , Damon," Bonnie fired back. "Based on your lack of a description, I've found at least half a dozen different things it could be, and that's within the first thirty minutes of searching alone! And if we just start giving her a bunch of random antidotes, she might end up even worse off if there's a bad reaction!"

"Dammit, Bonnie-"

Elena jumped up, and he stopped talking to watch her approach. The shirt she wore hung down long enough to conceal the boxers, so it looked like she had nothing on underneath, just a pair of shapely tan legs that went on for days.

"I know you're worried, Damon, but don't take it out on Bonnie."

"Then maybe she shouldn't be so damn useless."

Elena put her hand in his. "She's doing her best. Besides, I feel fine. Maybe Kai was wrong or – or lying. He's a sociopath. We can't trust him."

"And if he wasn't?"

Klaus interrupted, "Then you can take her upstairs and give her a good shag. Honestly, I don't see what the problem is." A smirk appeared on his handsome face. "Unless you don't think you're up to the task of satisfying your girl."

Glacial blue eyes flashed above lips that twisted cruelly. "Why don't you ask your sister if I'm up to the task."

Klaus's face morphed into hardened, furious lines. Caroline leaned over across the arm of the couch and smacked the Original's forearm. "Not helping!" she scolded at the same time that Elena said reproachfully, "Damon!"

Damon whirled around, tearing his hand free from Elena's, and stalked over to one of the many book shelves lining the walls. He braced his hands on a shelf and stared down at the floor, fighting the urge to do something stupid like break and smash everything within reach.

If he and Elena had already had sex, then Klaus's suggestion would be the obvious solution. But they hadn't, and he sure as hell wasn't going to let Kai dictate how and when they finally consummated their relationship. And no way was he about to reveal that he and Elena hadn't done the deed yet in front of these people, not only because it would embarrass Elena, but because it was none of their goddamn business.

Elena maneuvered under his arm and inserted herself between him and the wall. He found himself staring down her cleavage, so nicely on display in his black shirt since the top few buttons were open. "Damon," she whispered, cupping his face between her soft hands, "maybe Klaus is right."

Dragging his eyes away from her breasts, he looked at her in shock. "Excuse me? Klaus is never right."

"Let's just go upstairs," she pleaded. Her hands fell away from his cheeks, and he glanced down when she started undoing the buttons on the shirt he wore. He examined her suspiciously. Her cheeks were flushed and her pupils unnaturally dilated.

"How long, Bonnie?" he asked tersely over his shoulder. "How long do these things last?"

Bonnie shrugged. "Generally speaking, I don't know, a few hours?"

He gulped. How the hell was he supposed to refuse Elena for a _few hours_? She slipped her hands under his shirt, fingers skating across smooth, hard muscles that clenched at her touch.

"Damon, _please_ ," Elena said, tears shimmering in her beautiful dark eyes.

Before he was even consciously aware of his actions, he scooped her up and secured her within the curve of his arms, intending to take her upstairs and…well, he didn't know what. He'd figure something out.

Caroline intercepted him before he made it through the door. "Uh-uh, no, where do you think you're going?"

"Get out of my way, Blondie."

She crossed her arms defiantly. "Elena is under a spell that we can't identify, and we're not sure what's going to happen. I don't think you being alone with her right now is the best idea."

"She needs me," he said in a low voice, furious that Caroline was delaying his efforts to help Elena.

Caroline gave him a scathing look as Elena rained kisses along his jaw and one of her hands disappeared inside his shirt to play with his nipple. "Right, how selfless of you," the blonde girl commented sarcastically. "I have a better idea. How about we just tie her up and lock her in the basement until this is all over, so no one – and by no one, I mean _you_ – can take advantage of her."

Elena stiffened in his arms and buried her face in the crook of his neck. "No, Damon, please don't let them do that to me."

"Move," Damon demanded. When the interfering vampire still didn't get out of his way, he snapped, "Klaus? I suggest you remove your girl before I remove her spleen."

Klaus appeared in his peripheral vision. "Let them pass, love. Damon won't let any harm come to Elena."

Caroline gave Klaus a vicious look then sought backup from another source, asking, "You're alright with this, Stefan?"

"As much as I hate to say it, I agree with Klaus," Stefan said. "My brother's a dick, but he'd never hurt Elena. Besides, it'd probably be more trouble than it's worth to try and stop him."

"Got that right, brother," Damon growled.

"Bonnie?" Caroline implored her friend.

"I'll keep looking for an antidote, Care, but lust spells are nasty. You definitely don't subject someone to one if you like them. They work by over stimulating all of the pleasure receptors in the body to the point where it becomes painful and overwhelming. Damon's kind of right when he says she's going to need him."

Damon's arms tightened around Elena as she nibbled tenderly on his earlobe. No, he wasn't going to allow Elena to suffer. " _Move_ ," he snarled at Caroline.

Klaus at least picked up on the death threat implicit in his tone. The Original whisked Caroline out of his way, and Damon took Elena upstairs. Once inside his room, he kicked the door shut and tried to set her down, but that was about as easy as disengaging from an octopus. She suddenly seemed to have far more limbs than normal and he couldn't get any of them to let go.

"Okay," he remarked, struggling to break the hold her legs had on his waist without hurting her, "I think we need to talk about how we're going to handle this."

"No, no talking." She clung to him insistently.

"Elena, listen to me, the spell is obviously starting to kick in, and we can't just…you know."

The instant he finally got her feet to touch the ground, she bounced up onto her toes and twined her arms around his neck. "Kiss me, Damon."

Her breathy request shifted his attention to her perfect, delectable mouth, which did alarming things to his self-control as well as his ability to recall what he'd been trying to say. Her intoxicating scent swept through him, lavender mixed with feminine arousal and just beneath that the warm, rich scent of her blood.

"One kiss won't hurt, will it?" she asked, moistening her lips.

 _One kiss_. Didn't this girl know that he would sell what was left of his soul in a heartbeat for one kiss from her?

But only for a real one. Only for a real kiss freely given. And if it wasn't for Kai's spell, she wouldn't be asking him for one.

He shook his head slowly in an attempt to do the right thing, but when her lips rose to meet his, he couldn't just not kiss her back. And when the tip of her nimble little tongue traced the seam of his lips, he couldn't just ignore her and not send his tongue out to start a sensuous dance with hers. Her head tilted so they could kiss more deeply, slow, intense kisses that acted like an opiate on his senses, drugging him and fueling a languid heat that seeped through his traitorous body. God, how he ached for this girl.

She pushed his shirt the rest of the way off, down his arms and onto the floor. One hand glided down and cupped his hard-on. "Mmm, yum," she purred in a voice that made his knees weak.

The sound of his fly being unzipped jolted him. Jesus Christ, no, this couldn't happen. What was he doing? It was as if she had cast her own lust spell on him, completely scrambling his wits. He snatched up her hands. She resisted, pulling back, so he relinquished his hold. She backed away from him, and he took the opportunity to quickly re-zip his pants. He inhaled deeply to try and calm the thundering of his heart in the hopes that it wouldn't pump all the blood away from his brain.

"As much as I'd really like to…" he began, then faltered when her fingers started an inexorable march down the front of her shirt, undoing all the buttons.

He mentally slapped himself and continued, "…to do this with you right now…"

Having undone the last one, she shrugged out of the garment and let it flutter to the ground.

"…I think we should…" All the breath _whooshed_ out of his lungs, and he lost the ability to form words when confronted with the sight of her bare breasts. As he stood there speechless, she grabbed him by the waistband of his pants and spun him around, pushing him aggressively down onto the bed and straddling his thighs.

He couldn't take his eyes off her breasts which were now at a wonderfully convenient eye level. She cupped all that marvelously firm flesh, circling her peaked nipples, tugging, pinching, moaning, "I wish these were your hands."

Yeah, so did he. His mouth opened and closed several times, but he was unable to make any sound come out. He clenched the bed sheets so tightly his fists ripped large holes in the material. He had to keep leaning back as she kept leaning forward.

"Isn't this what you want?" she pouted with kiss-swollen lips as he gritted his teeth to stop himself from taking one of those perilously close dusky rose-colored nipples between his lips.

 _Say something!_ He groaned, "I mean, yes, but…" He trailed off. Stringing words together was a challenge he wasn't up for right now. His tongue was thick, his brain full of cotton.

"You don't want me?" Her hips wiggled enticingly against the obvious evidence of his desire.

A muscle ticked in his cheek. "You know that's not the problem. You know I want you more than anything."

"Then, what are you waiting for? I don't want to wait anymore. I feel like we've been waiting forever."

He certainly understood that sentiment, but they'd just have to wait a little longer. "No," he whispered hoarsely, "as much as I definitely wish otherwise, this isn't really you."

"Yes, it is. You want this. _I_ want this. I _need_ this." She shoved him flat on the bed and loomed over him, hands resting on his pecs. This girl was worse than kryptonite. Even though he was infinitely stronger than her, she made him so weak.

"God, you're so hot," she murmured appreciatively, nails lightly scoring his chest. "Do you have any idea how often I've fantasized about tearing off all your clothes and doing everything dirty thing I could think of to you?"

He laughed feebly. "Probably not as often as I have."

A sexy smile spread across her lovely face, and she leaned down, running her tongue along the grooves of his collar bone. He stared at the ceiling, breathless, as Elena's velvety soft lips and tongue seared a path down his torso. She lavished special attention on each of his nipples and every ridge of his flawlessly sculpted abs.

He knew this was wrong, he shouldn't be letting this happen, but sweet mother of Christ, it felt fucking amazing.

Her nose rubbed through the happy trail of silky black hair leading down from his navel, and then her hands were undoing his fly. His head lifted as he protested half-heartedly, "Elena, we shouldn't-" When her slender fingers curled around the raw, pulsing steel of his erection and started stroking, his head flopped back on the bed and his eyes slid shut.

How was this happening? How was this fair? He felt like the butt of some giant cosmic joke, and he could practically hear the universe laughing at him. Why did he have to be the one to do the right thing? Because he'd promised her he wouldn't let anything happen tonight? But he wasn't the good guy, and he never did the right thing. He'd made her that promise when it would be much easier to keep – like, for example, when they both still had all their clothes on and Elena was buried under a mountain of sheets. But now, when she was touching his dick and begging him to fuck her? How could anyone expect him to resist that?

For a single moment, he contemplated just giving in, because he really wanted this. And what she was doing felt really good. Like he never wanted it to stop good. It'd be so easy, so tempting to just let Elena have her way….

But that was the problem. It wasn't Elena's way, it was the influence of Kai's spell. If he didn't resist her, if he gave into the selfish, reckless impulse urging him to just do it, to just bend her over the bed and fuck her until neither of them could move, she'd be furious and hurt that their first time went down this way when she wasn't in control of her own actions. The way she would look at him in the morning… He wouldn't be able to stand it. So, he had to stop her. This wasn't right, no matter how good her mouth and hands felt on him, no matter how seductively she beseeched him.

With a supreme display of will power, he grabbed both of her wrists and sat up, hauling her into his lap. "Elena, we _can't_."

She rubbed herself on his rock-hard length, grinding against him in slow, erotic circles. "That's not what it feels like."

"It's not right," he whispered weakly.

She dragged his hand down to the front of the black silken boxers she still wore. The crotch was soaked. "Does this feel wrong?"

No, god help him, she felt incredibly right. Her lips brushed against his, and he found himself kissing her back, his hands sliding down to grip her hips, cinching her more tightly against him.

 _It's not her, it's not_ real, he told himself repeatedly until he actually started to pay attention. He tried to pull away, but she dug her teeth into his bottom lip and wouldn't let him go. So he grabbed the back of her head and pulled her into a hard, bruising kiss, flipping her onto the bed beneath him without losing contact with her mouth. Her legs wrapped around his waist, and her breasts thrust against his chest, and he wanted to rip off that last thin piece of silk between them and plunge into her as deeply as he could go.

"Damon," she whispered huskily into his mouth, and he knew she was pleading with him to do exactly that. He lifted his head up, seeking his last reservoir of strength, before glancing back down at her.

"I promise I'm going to take care of you, baby girl, but I – I need a minute."

"And I need you inside of me so badly. I need you to fuck me, Damon. I'll do whatever you want me to do. Please, Damon, just tell me what you want me to do." She sounded almost frantic as she arched invitingly against him.

"I want you to just give me one minute." Her face grew sullen, but her limbs loosened their hold. _Thank god_. "I swear I'll be right back." He stood on wobbly legs, tucking himself awkwardly back into his pants – it _really_ did not want to go back in. He staggered into the bathroom and turned on the faucet, splashing cold water on his face as if that would do anything to staunch the desire rampaging through his veins like out of control wildfire.

What was he supposed to do? This was torture. She knew exactly what to do, what to say to knock the fight out of him. It was fucking hard to resist something he didn't really want to resist in the first place.

"Damon?"

The anguish in her voice made him straighten and glance over. "Elena?"

She was completely naked, having ripped off the boxers. They lay in a tattered heap beside the bed. She was writhing in a tangled pile of sheets, flushed and clearly uncomfortable in her own skin, having obviously progressed to the overwhelming, painful phase of a lust spell about which Bonnie had warned.

Tears glimmered in her eyes, "Damon, please make it stop. It _hurts_."

In a flash, he crawled up the bed, unable to deny her when she was in such distress. He cupped her face firmly in his hands and touched his forehead to her feverishly hot one, trying to reach her mind and use a dream vision to communicate so he could ask her what sort of help she truly wanted from him. But her thoughts were too chaotic, in too much turmoil. There was nothing for him to latch on to, so he gave up.

Hot tears began to leak from the corners of her eyes. He kissed them away one by one as they fell.

When he couldn't endure it anymore, he whispered, "I can help you, Elena, if that's what you want." It was stupid to ask, she wasn't in her right mind, but he still needed at least some semblance of consent from her.

"Yes, please hurry." She twisted under him frantically.

He wedged a knee between her clenched thighs, and perhaps sensing his intention, she parted them freely the rest of the way. His fingers found their way between her legs, and as soon as he touched her, she came violently, crying out and shuddering. He brought her swiftly to climax three more times as she panted his name, hands tugging his hair.

"I need more, Damon, please, it's not enough." It was true. She didn't seem to be finding any relief. Still, he hesitated.

"Damon, _please_ ," she sobbed, tears streaming down her cheeks in rapid succession.

Undone by her tears, he slid down between her widespread thighs. "Elena, look at me."

Her eyes cracked open, and when she saw where he was poised, she arched greedily towards his mouth.

"Tell me this is what you want," he rasped.

"God, Damon, yes, just do it!" she cried, and when his mouth descended over her, she gasped in relief, coming hard over and over. As he made love to her with his lips and tongue, her hips rose and fell with reckless abandon, her nails digging into his scalp. He kept her there, on the edge, suspended in rapture, so she wouldn't have time to come down and fall prey to the spell's painful effects.

He didn't know how long he savored her exquisite taste, helping her to achieve the release that her body relentlessly demanded. She begged him not to stop until she grew hoarse, so he didn't, not until her hands lessened their death grip on his head, and her body eventually stilled, no longer wracked by painful over stimulation.

He shifted sideways, rising up to lie beside her, sweeping damp tendrils of hair from her sweaty temples. "Elena?"

Her eyes fluttered open at the sound of his voice, and she managed to whisper, "I'm going to go to sleep now, okay?"

"Okay," he whispered back, clasping her in his arms and pressing her head against his chest as she slipped into sweet oblivion, finally at peace.

* * *

He'd hoped to return before she woke up. He didn't want her to think she was alone. But by the time he made it back upstairs, Elena was already awake and perched on the edge of his bed, hair a wild tangle tumbling down her back. She'd donned one of his button-down shirts that she must have found on the floor, wrapping it tightly around herself. He shut the bedroom door and held out a steaming coffee mug. "Brought you coffee. Cream and sugar just like you like it."

He sat down beside her and she accepted the cup, taking a trial sip. "Mmm, good. Thank you."

They suffered through an awkward moment of silence before he asked, "So, do you…remember anything from last night?"

She was quiet for so long he feared she wasn't going to answer. When she finally did speak, her voice was low and subdued. "I remember everything."

"Are you okay?"

This time she didn't answer him.

He stared down at his hands. "Elena, I didn't know what else to do. You were in pain, you were _crying_."

"I'm not mad at you."

He blinked, startled, and glanced askance at her. "You're not?"

"No, I'm just so embarrassed. The things I did, the things I _said_ …."

"It was a spell, Elena. I know that wasn't really you."

"But it was. The spell may have removed my inhibitions, but it didn't make me do or say anything that I didn't already think or feel."

He leaned over and bumped his shoulder against hers reassuringly. "So, you want my hot body. I already knew that."

She smiled softly and took another sip of her coffee. "How do you do that?"

"Do what?"

"You can always make me smile."

He shot her a cocky look. "Well, it's most likely a combination of my good looks, my charm, my-"

"Oh my god, be quiet!" she exclaimed, pressing a hand to his mouth and trying not to laugh. "Do you always have to be so completely impossible?"

He pulled her hand away and twined his fingers through hers. "As long as it makes you smile."

She stared at their linked fingers, and her smile slowly faded. She asked, "Why didn't you do it?"

"Why didn't I do what?" He knew exactly what she meant, but he decided to be deliberately obtuse.

"I was begging you to have sex with me, so why didn't you?"

He sighed. "Well, I'm not going to lie, I wanted to."

"But you didn't. Why?"

Aware that his answer would matter a great deal to her, he regarded her thoughtfully. "When we finally have sex, Elena, you will be begging me for it, but I want it to be real. And certainly not forced on us by Kai."

Her eyes filled with sparkling, unshed tears, and she gave him a grateful look. "Thank you."

"I'm just glad you're alright." He tenderly kissed the back of her hand, then took the coffee cup that was basically still full away from her. "Go take a shower, get cleaned up. I promise you'll feel better."

She did as he suggested, and when she emerged from the bathroom with wet hair and a towel wrapped around her, she discovered him packing a small duffel bag. "What are you doing?"

He gave her a tight look. "Kai does not get to get away with this. Not after everything he's done to you."

She moved next to him. "You're going to follow him?"

"Yes." And, oh, the irony was sweet since he'd had no intention of going after Kai until the psycho witch targeted Elena to prevent Damon from following him. "I know the general area he's headed. If I can catch up to him before he makes it to this portal he's looking for, I can kill him."

"How? Isn't he unkillable now?"

"He still has to hide his heart, which means he has to have it on him somewhere in order to hide it. I'm going to find him before he gets that chance and then I'm going to eat his heart right in front of him."

Unfazed by his talk of cannibalism, Elena nodded. "Okay, I'm coming with you."

"No, Elena. I don't have time for this."

"Make time." She inserted herself between Damon and his duffel bag. "You can't keep shutting me out like this. Either you let me come with you or we can't…." She broke off, unable to finish the ultimatum, and pleaded, "Please let me come with you."

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Why did she persist in this ridiculous delusion that her presence would somehow be helpful or make anything better? "How's the view from the clouds up in fantasy-land? Must be nice; wish I could share it with you. Unfortunately, I have to live down here in the real world and face reality, and reality is that Kai can and will hurt you in order to hurt me. You are my weakness, Elena, my fucking Achilles heel. So, no, you're not coming."

She huffed out an angry breath. "Then you'd better vervain me again or snap my neck, because that's the only way I'm not coming after you, and I swear if you do that, I'll never forgive you. I can accept that you're going to do things I don't like, but you have to accept that I'm going to do them with you. I mean it, Damon, this is it. Either we're a team or we're nothing."

Jamming a hand through raven hair, he scowled. "What you're asking of me flies in the face of all logic and reason."

Her face crumpled, and she started to turn away. No, he wasn't going to lose her, not like this, not over Kai. He grabbed her arm and spun her around to face him. "Fine, come with me then if that's really what you want. I just want it noted that I think this is a terrible idea."

She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him, the sort of kiss that provided him with a powerful incentive to let her have her way more often.

As she drew back, Damon's lips quirked. "You're completely fucking insane, you know that, right?"

"I learned from the best." With a cheeky smile, she jumped away, grabbing her towel before it could loosen and fall to the floor.

He resumed stuffing things into his bag. "We leave in ten minutes. I'll get you whatever you need on the way."

"Okay!" she sang out as she made a mad dash to locate her clothes from yesterday.

He grinned. She really was the perfect girl for him.


	15. Chapter 15

_Elena's POV_

With Damon driving like demons from hell were after them, they made it to Nashville, Tennessee by the end of the day. Since she lacked even the most basic of essentials, Damon dropped her off on an avenue lined with adorable little boutique stores. When she asked him how she was supposed to pay for her purchases – she didn't even have her purse – he'd given her a _duh_ look and said, "You're a vampire. Just compel them to give you whatever you want."

Well, she was _not_ about to steal and bestowed upon him such a frosty glare that he glanced skyward and muttered something unflattering about 'judgy little eyes'. Nevertheless, he passed over a credit card.

She glanced down at the shiny plastic and couldn't contain a startled laugh. "This says Stefan Salvatore."

"Yep."

"Does he know you have a credit card in his name?"

"Nope."

All she could do was smile in spite of herself and shake her head.

Giving her a flirty wink, he said, "Have fun. Knock yourself out. Shop til you drop. I'm going to go get us a hotel room."

He wasn't gone long, and when he returned to pick her up, she was loaded down with tons of new outfits and accessories, whatever she thought she might need. The hotel he took her to was top of the line. She had to give it to him, he'd certainly arranged for them to stay at the best. The hotel room was amazing, a first-class, sumptuous suite. It had every luxury a person could conceivably want, complete with a ginormous king-size bed - she and Damon would have plenty of space to…sleep in style.

But it was the bathroom that garnered the most excitement from her. She'd immediately taken a shower, relishing the feel of the hot water, taking her sweet time, making sure to exfoliate and shave so every inch of her was touchably soft and smooth. She put on one of her new purchases, a dress in a gorgeous shade of dark purple that looked incredible against her skin tone. The silky material clung to every curve and fell to mid-thigh. She'd straightened her hair so that long dark waves framed her face and wore only the barest hint of makeup – one application of mascara and some pink, cherry-flavored gloss on her lips.

And of course she wore her daylight right. She glanced down, twisting it around on her finger. Bonnie may have enchanted it so she could walk in the sun, but she knew Damon had picked it out. It was stunningly beautiful, and she loved wearing something that he'd given her.

Looking up at her reflection, she spun in front of the bathroom mirror, nervously assessing herself. She shuddered to think of her previous state: stuck in clothes that were a day old before she'd sat in them all the way to Tennessee. This was most definitely an improvement. She hoped Damon thought so also.

She bared her teeth at her reflection. What was she doing? Shaving, dressing up, caring what he thought of her appearance? Did this mean she intended to sleep with him? Even after everything? Was she really just going to give him a pass for all the awful things he'd done?

Her blood quickened as the answer struck her with the force of a lightning bolt. _Yes._ Yes, she would sleep with him. If he in any way pressed her, she had no intention of resisting. That probably said something terrible about her, but she didn't care. She was tired of being afraid of what she really wanted, and she didn't want to wait anymore. There had been so much darkness, so much tragedy in her short life that she didn't want to deny herself a chance to grab happiness where she could. Especially since if Damon actually succeeded in finding Kai and something went wrong, then they might never get the chance to…. She couldn't even finish that brutal, soul-shattering thought and shoved it away. He loved her, and she loved him, and that would just have to be enough. She would savor right now and hope for the best. It was all she could do.

Ruefully, she thought, _why can't anything with him just be simple?_

Chewing her lip, she pulled the bathroom door open and went out. She passed through the bedroom into the living area. Damon's leather jacket hung limply over the back of a chair.

Damon himself stood out on their small private balcony, his form illuminated by the lights of the city and the traffic streaming by below. There was a half-empty bottle of bourbon by his feet and a topped off crystal glass in his hand. She allowed herself to admire the view for a moment, and by view she meant the sight of his ass in perfectly fitted black pants. Only for a moment though, because then he turned around, sensing her. With his pale skin, smoldering blue eyes, and hair blacker than a raven's wing, he was heart-stoppingly sexy.

She shivered. Jeez, could he look any more like pure sin?

Nervously, she smoothed her hands down the skirt of her dress, assaulted by fresh insecurities.

However, from the look on his face, she didn't have anything to worry about. Initially, when he'd turned, he'd been wearing that lazy, arrogant smirk that so habitually graced his features, but it quickly slid away as his jaw slackened and his lips barely parted. His eyes grew heavy-lidded as he slowly perused her, taking his time going down and coming back up. The raw, sexual heat of his scrutiny stroked over her skin like a caress.

"I see you put my credit card to good use," he observed.

"You mean Stefan's credit card," she corrected him mildly.

He shrugged lightly, the faintest smile playing across his sensual lips. "So, Miss Gilbert, here we are all alone just you and me in this hotel room. Whatever shall we do to pass the time?"

"You sound like you already have a few ideas."

"Just one."

He continued to look at her with those intense blue eyes and her insides slowly melted into a pool of molten honey that gathered in her low belly, leaving her wet and ready. As in no foreplay necessary ready.

Right then, someone knocked on the door. The unexpected sound made her jump.

Damon grinned crookedly. "Dinner time. I'm famished." He picked up the bottle of bourbon and exited the balcony, approaching her with the predatory grace of a panther stalking a deer, the scent of dark spices preceding him. As he drew even with her, he inclined his head, surveying her with bright blue eyes full of amusement. "Did you think I meant something else?"

"Nope," she said quickly, praying that her face wasn't as flaming red as it felt, "something to eat sounds good."

He moved past her, depositing his bourbon on a nearby table, and aimed a darkly irreverent smile in her direction before opening the door.

A woman in a white and black room service uniform waited on the other side with a tray, on top of which sat a silver domed cover and an ornate silver bucket filled with a bottle of champagne on ice. She had shoulder-length red hair which was flipped coquettishly over her shoulder once she got a good look at who answered the door.

"Oh, um, hi…did you order room service?"

Damon jerked his chin in affirmation and stepped back to allow her entry. The woman wheeled the tray over to the table and placed the covered platter and champagne onto the flat surface. She turned.

"Did you need anything else?" Her tone implied that she really wanted the answer to be yes. She hadn't even glanced in Elena's direction. No, the woman was too busy oogling her boyfriend. Elena's fists clenched. Okay, yeah, Damon was insanely hot, but couldn't the lady even be remotely professional?

"Actually," Damon said, "why don't you stay, hang out for a while?"

"Oh, I-I have to get back to work…" Despite her words, the woman made no move to leave.

"I'm not asking." Damon's eyes flared as he compelled the woman. "Don't move. No talking." He clapped his hands and rubbed them together vigorously. "Now, my girl and I are feeling a bit peckish, and you're going to indulge us." Moving behind her, his arm formed a strong band around the employee's midsection as he pulled her against him and bit into her neck.

As he fed from the hotel employee, he locked eyes with Elena. Crimson liquid spilled down the girl's porcelain skin, escaping the seal of his lips. Even though, Elena knew Damon used to be human, in this moment she couldn't imagine him as anything other than what he was right now: a sleek, deadly, inhumanely beautiful predator. And it made her want him with a fierceness that took her breath away.

The sight and smell of fresh blood coupled with an irrational jealousy that Damon's mouth was on anyone other than her made Elena snap, "My turn."

He smiled wickedly and raised his hands in surrender, backing away from the dazed woman, his mouth now a bright scarlet. Elena pounced and sank her fangs into trembling flesh, instantly lost in a rosy haze of pumping blood that slid down her throat in an intoxicating rush. All the while, Damon observed her, leaning against the wall like a lazy panther, all coiled muscles and predatory heat. She could tell that she was turning him on the same way she'd been aroused watching him feed.

The woman's heart began to stutter, and Elena knew that if she took much more, she would die. Reluctantly, feeling like she hadn't even begun to have her fill, she released her bite and sliced open her own wrist with a fang, pressing her blood to the woman's lips so she'd heal.

Damon's hand came down forcibly on the woman's shoulder. "Bye-bye, get lost."

He shoved the woman away, and she left. He grabbed the back of Elena's head, pulling her close enough that she felt his breath fanning across her cheek. His head dipped low, and she closed her eyes, waiting with breathless anticipation for his kiss.

As the seconds stretched out unbearably and there was no mouth-to-mouth contact, she slowly peeped up at him through long lashes to discover him just hovering above her lips.

When he noticed that she'd reopened her eyes, he commented, "You have something...right…there." His thumb wiped away a rivulet of blood snaking below her lower lip. Drawing back, he stuck his thumb in his mouth and sucked.

Her heart did a funny little flip-flop in her chest. If his reaction was anywhere near as powerful as hers, he disguised it masterfully.

Raising his eyebrows, he inquired, "Don't you want to see what's for dessert?"

 _Not unless it's you naked on a bed, covered in chocolate and whipped cream._ She swallowed hard at that mental image because, well, it was a doozy."Sure, I guess," she responded unenthusiastically. She wanted to scream. What was he doing? Why wouldn't he kiss her?

Making his way to the table, Damon raised the silver domed lid covering the room service platter. Beneath it was an aesthetically pleasing arrangement of chocolate covered strawberries. He selected one and sat down on the edge of the table. He put the sweet fruit between his lips and took a bite. She pursed her lips. There was no way just the simple act of eating a piece of fruit should be so sexy. But it was when he did it. Especially now that she was intimately familiar with exactly how talented his mouth was after last night.

"Delicious," he rumbled softly. "You should try one."

She swayed towards him before her feet caught up with her body, and she made her not-so-graceful way to his side. He offered her one, held out between his thumb and forefinger. She accepted, her fingers grazing his as the fruit exchanged hands. The contact, light as the brush of a dark angel's wings, seared through her, igniting every cell in her body.

Laying the strawberry upon her lips, she sank white, even teeth into the ripe flesh, closing her eyes as her mouth flooded with sweet juice and decadent chocolate. After swallowing, her eyes reopened, and she saw Damon watching her with a rapt gaze, completely still, eyes hooded.

She blushed. "I love strawberries."

Clearing his throat, he looked away and selected another. "Yeah, so did Stefan. They were his favorite." One half of his mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "One year, I stole a whole basketful from the kitchen. He ate almost all of them by himself and ended up sick as a dog. When father discovered what I'd done, he beat the shit out of me. It was worth it, though, to make Stefan happy." After a moment, he added, "Even though he always was an insufferable brat."

"You and Stefan were close when you were young," she commented lightly.

"Until Katherine," he agreed bitterly.

'Will you tell me about it? When you were human? Before Katherine?" Damon rarely talked about his life before he became a vampire, and she was dying to hear more. Unfortunately, her questions made him stiffen and clam up, so she amended, "Just the happy parts."

"You didn't hear enough maudlin reminiscing from my brother?"

"I'm sure your version differs from his."

"Maybe later," he grudgingly conceded.

"Yeah, of course. There's just so much I don't know about you."

His brow creased. "You know everything that's worth knowing."

"Oh, yeah? Well, I don't even know what your favorite color is."

"My favorite color?" he echoed back as if she'd just said one of the stupidest things he'd ever heard.

"What? That's a pretty basic thing to know about someone, and I have no idea what yours is."

He popped another strawberry into his mouth. "Black for my black heart."

"Damon," she said exasperatedly.

"What? I'm not twelve, Elena. I don't have a favorite color."

"Okay, sorry I wanted to know something normal about you."

He released a heavy breath. "You really want to know what my favorite color is? Brown."

She wrinkled her nose. "Brown is your favorite color?"

"Well," he revised, "only this one specific shade of brown. And it changes color depending on her mood. For instance, it gets really dark when she's pissed. Other times, when she's happy, it sparkles and catches the light like amber fire."

"That is…" she sighed, searching for the right word, "obnoxiously romantic."

He smirked. "Mhmm. And your favorite color?"

Without hesitation, she answered, "Blue."

His smirk faded, replaced by a look that caused goose bumps to erupt on her flesh. She felt the heat of his hand as it pressed into the small of her back, guiding her closer. His lips moved across her cheek, a gentle caress that left her wanting more.

His cheek pressed to hers, and the air of his words blew lightly across her earlobe. "I wanted to wait until this was over, do it right, make everything perfect for you, but I…" He drew back and his eyes locked with hers, his gaze holding such naked, desperate yearning for her that it scraped her heart raw. "Princess, I need you. God, I need you so fucking much."

At last, she understood his infuriating hesitation. He wanted her, but he wasn't sure if she'd be receptive, if she was ready yet. After all, she supposed she should still be mad at him for the events of yesterday. He'd killed a dozen people and vervained her. But, honestly, that felt like a lifetime ago, and right now all she could think about was him and the way his hands felt on her body.

Overcome with love and gratitude that he could desire her so much and yet not want to make her uncomfortable, she took one of his hands and guided it to her chest, placing it on the spot directly above her heart.

"Yes."

"Yes?" he repeated as if that couldn't possibly be what he'd heard her say.

She nodded and smiled gently. "Yes."

For the space of one heartbeat, he stood there immobile, just staring at his hand where it rested above her breast, his face a blend of disbelief and wonder. Then, he burst into action, picking her up and setting her on the edge of the table, wrapping her legs around his waist and kissing her fiercely, ravenously, just as she'd been craving. He tasted like blood and strawberries, an intoxicating, addictive blend.

The swollen ridge of his erection nestled between her thighs, the roughness of his jeans against her thin panties creating a delicious friction that made desire spike through her bloodstream. Her back arched, rubbing hard nipples against his chest. His hands slid up her thighs under her dress to cup her backside, kneading the soft flesh. Bending, he kissed her neck, teeth grazing her flesh in a way that sent chills skittering down her spine.

She lifted her arms straight up in the air, and he obliged, pulling the purple dress over her head in one fluid motion. It sailed across the room to end up unceremoniously on the floor somewhere. He drew in a sharp breath when he beheld the red lacy lingerie she'd been hiding beneath her dress. A finger traced the top of one of the bra cups supporting her perky breasts. His eyes dipped lower to take in the lacy red thong she wore.

"Oh, you definitely put my credit card to _excellent_ use."

"So, I should put these in the yes pile?" she asked with a saucy grin.

He chuckled wickedly. "There won't be enough left of them to put anywhere when I'm done with you."

Without further ado, his mouth descended to her breasts and he clamped onto the nipples visibly poking through the red lace, working first one, then the other with his teeth and tongue until she thought he would make her climax from that alone.

Desperate to feel him, she ripped his shirt down the middle and then completely off of him. With impatient hands, she unbuckled his belt and undid his fly. He relinquished his possession of her breasts and stepped back, taking the briefest moment to shimmy out of his pants and kick off his boots.

The sight of him made her mouth go dry. He was magnificent, standing there totally naked looking like some dark, dangerous sex god who was – her gaze dropped – certainly endowed exactly like she assumed a sex god would be. Licking her lips, she wrapped both hands around the hard, smooth heat of his shaft and used it to pull him close.

Her hands lightly explored him while his fingers tangled in her long fine tresses. Fisting a hand in her hair, he tilted her head back so that she was looking up at him. She gasped as roots pulled tight across her scalp. She increased the tempo and pressure of her ministrations, reveling in the way his eyes blazed with passion and a strained sound emerged from his throat.

"So, tell me, Damon," she commanded boldly, mimicking the questions he'd asked her the night he'd spent in her bed pleasuring her, "do _you_ touch yourself like this?"

He laughed briefly, one corner of his mouth curling sardonically. "Lately? A lot more than normal."

"And what do you think about when you're touching yourself?"

Without answering, his arms wrapped around her in a tight vise, and suddenly they were zooming through the air and then they were tumbling onto the enormous bed, Damon on top, though he was careful to bear the brunt of their fall and not crush her with his weight.

"Fucking you," he growled and slammed his mouth over hers. She could feel his rigid length pressing against her sensitive, wet center, only the scant lacy panties she still wore preventing penetration. Her hands clenched, nails digging bloody furrows down his muscular back as she imagined removing them and letting him sink his way home, finally ending this torture.

As though privy to her train of thought, his hands ripped her bra from her body, and there was a fleeting second of pain as the material dug into her skin before it snapped and gave way, the elastic no match for his strength. The rent halves disappeared into the darkness. He slid down and feasted on her exposed breasts, dragging his teeth across the tight buds until she was delirious with pleasure and writhing against him.

He continued down her body, and she felt his fangs scrape once, twice, three times against the tender flesh on the inside of her thigh, little love bites that left her panting with need. When his mouth finally journeyed to her throbbing core, he shredded red lace with his teeth and licked and sucked that sensitive place that ached beyond all reason. Her spine bowed and she cried out, a wordless, strangled sound.

Oh, god, she couldn't stand another second without him inside her-

A firm knock resounded throughout the hotel room.

Damon's dark head jerked up, and he cast a furious glance over his shoulder. "Who the fuck is that?"

"Huh….?" Her mind, lost in a hazy fog of pleasure, struggled to grasp what was happening.

"Never mind. Don't care." He returned his attention between her legs, and a moan escaped her lips.

Whoever it was knocked again, louder and more insistently.

She looked towards the doorway, hating herself as she said, "Damon, hold on, maybe…maybe we should answer that."

"Please tell me you're joking!"

She bit her lip then exhaled gustily. "I may have texted Bonnie and Caroline and told them where we were headed."

"What? Why would you do that?" he demanded angrily.

"Because I figured we could use all the help we could get. And I didn't realize they'd make such good time."

"Well, tell them to go away!"

Muffled through the door, Caroline's voice rang out indignantly. "We can hear you!"

"I don't care!" Damon retorted.

Elena began, "Damon…", then stopped when she couldn't find the right words or even any words.

He shot her a pleading look. "You can't be serious right now. No offense, Elena, but some of us are kind of past the point of no return here!"

She opened her mouth, then closed it like a mute fish. She still didn't know what to say. She really wanted to have sex with Damon, but her friends were out in the hall, and it put somewhat of a damper on the mood to think that they would overhear.

As it sank in that she really was slamming on the brakes, Damon's nostrils flared and his eyes glittered like shards of blue ice. He shoved off her and stalked stark naked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him with a violent bang.

She groaned and covered her face with her hands. Okay, so this didn't go quite the way she'd envisioned. Hopefully, he wouldn't be too mad, right? She peaked between her fingers at the bathroom door that was still vibrating from its mistreatment. Yeah, right.

There was another knock. "Elena? Let us in."

"Coming," she grumbled and sat up. Since her dress was out in the main area, she pulled on another outfit she'd acquired while shopping that evening, some comfy black yoga pants and a red spaghetti strap top.

When she finally made her way out front and opened the door, Caroline barged in, followed by Bonnie, then Klaus, and last, her brother Jeremy lugging a large red cooler.

"Jeremy!" she exclaimed. She'd hardly expected to see him. "What are you doing here?"

He grinned sheepishly and set the cooler down. "I wanted to make up for not being there with everyone else last night to help. It just didn't really seem like the sort of thing a brother should be involved in…"

She laughed and hugged him. "It's okay. I'm really glad you're here now. What's in the cooler?"

"Blood bags," Caroline informed her.

As everyone settled in and made themselves at home, Elena scurried around, hastily scooping up her and Damon's clothes that were strewn about the main area. Ignoring her friends' amused looks, she carried the clothes into the bedroom and threw them on the bed. She couldn't help but look toward the bathroom door which was still glaringly closed. Fretfully, she ran a hand through her hair for what felt like the umpteenth time and reluctantly returned to her friends.

After a few minutes, Damon emerged from the bedroom, wearing a sullen look on his face and different clothes.

Gesturing pointedly at Damon's almost empty bourbon bottle sitting on the table, Klaus proposed, "Since Damon seems to have drunk almost all the available liquor, might I suggest we visit the lounge downstairs and compel a bartender to give us a sufficient quantity of alcohol for the night?"

Damon sneered, "That just might be the only good idea you've ever had, Klausey."

"I'll go to." Jeremy hopped up eagerly.

"No, you won't," Damon snapped, snagging his jacket off the back of a chair and slipping into it.

Jeremy sat back down with a disappointed look.

Elena jumped up and intercepted Damon just before he slipped out the door after Klaus. She kissed him. "Be careful, and can't you take Jer with you?"

"Kid's not even old enough to drink."

She raised an eyebrow. They both knew he didn't give a damn about that. "For me?"

Damon's features turned resentful, then he looked away. "Baby Gilbert," he called.

Jeremy looked up, bangs hanging moppishly across his forehead.

"Come on." Damon slipped out the door.

Her brother ran after them, and Elena plopped down on the couch between her friends. "I probably shouldn't be encouraging Jeremy to hang out with those two."

Caroline shook her head, wavy blonde hair bouncing. "Tell me about it. How did we both end up with serial killer boyfriends?"

"I have no idea," Elena confessed. Suddenly craving a drink, she hopped back up to find three glasses, so they could open and drink the champagne still chilling on ice. She and Damon hadn't gotten a chance to enjoy it, but that was no reason for it to go to waste.

"Don't ask me. I think you're both crazy," Bonnie said.

Caroline's face scrunched up as she pretended to think really hard. Then, she brightened and declared, "I know! It must be the sex. The sex is _amazing,_ right, Elena?"

Elena was busy popping the cork on the bottle so she didn't answer right away. As she deftly poured the foaming champagne, watching the way bubbles streamed to the top of the pale yellow liquid, she admitted, "Actually, I wouldn't know. Damon and I haven't slept together yet."

Caroline sputtered, "Wait, what do you mean, you haven't slept with Damon yet? Do you mean that literally, like there hasn't been any sleeping yet when you two are in bed together?"

"No, Caroline," she said, feeling absurdly defensive, "I mean we haven't had sex yet."

"Why not?" Caroline and Bonnie chorused simultaneously in disbelief.

She shrugged, tucking a wayward strand of hair behind an ear. "We just haven't."

With a speculative look, Caroline asked, "So, you're telling me that we just interrupted you when you two were finally about to – for the _first time_?"

"Pretty much," Elena replied dryly.

Caroline snorted with mirth. "No wonder he's been way grumpier than usual lately."

Bonnie chimed in, "A sexless Damon. That just seems cruel."

"I'm not-" – _trying to be cruel,_ she finished internally and it sounded lame even to her. She blew air out the side of her mouth and brought over two glasses, handing them off to her friends. "Things just keep getting in the way. And I guess at first I wanted to be different and not just jump into bed with him right away like everybody else."

"You mean, like me," Caroline said icily, blue eyes narrowing. She wasn't laughing anymore.

"That's not what I said." Her words carried a sharper edge than she'd intended. Elena really didn't like being reminded that Damon and Caroline had a history together. Granted, it was a long time ago when Damon first came to town and he'd been a different person then, but still… she didn't like thinking about it.

"But it's what you meant."

"Caroline-"

"It's fine." The pretty blonde girl waved a hand dismissively. "I'm totally over the fact that your boyfriend abused me and tried to kill me. What I'm not over is how you could possibly choose him over Stefan."

Elena laughed, a sound devoid of humor. " _Your_ boyfriend tried to kill me and you and everyone else I love on multiple occasions, and yet I'm not sitting here judging you." Elena sat down next to Caroline and took her friend's hand. "Look, Caroline, I just want you to be happy, and as long as Klaus makes you happy, then I'll respect that."

Caroline pursed her lips then broke into a begrudging smile and put her arms around Elena. "Ugh, you're right. I promise from now on no more judging." She quickly qualified, "As long as you're sure you're happy."

A Caroline that didn't judge? They'd see how long that lasted, but it was certainly a start. Hugging her friend back tightly, she said, "I'm sure. Thanks, Care. Cheers?"

"Cheers," Caroline laughed, and the girls clinked and drained their glasses.

Bonnie clapped a hand on top of her thigh. "Good, now that that's settled, can we decide what we're doing for dinner? You guys may be covered, but Jeremy and I need people food, not blood bags."

They finished ordering pizzas from room service about the time the boys showed back up. Damon hung around for a little while on the fringes of the group, hardly saying anything, then disappeared into the bedroom.

Later that night, Bonnie and Jeremy had fallen asleep together on the over-sized pull out couch, and Klaus and Caroline were out on the balcony, heads bent, talking quietly. Elena was trying to sleep on the regular couch but not having much luck. Silent as a ghost, she got up and slipped into the bedroom. The room was dark but she could just make out Damon's prone form lying on the bed, hand clenched around the neck of a bottle of bourbon. She crawled over next to him.

"What are you doing?" he asked, voice muted in the darkness.

"I can't sleep."

"Well, I can guarantee that crawling into bed with me won't help your odds." Despite his snarky tone, he switched the bourbon to his other hand so she'd be able to lie next to him without anything between them.

"You're mad," she observed tentatively.

"I'm not mad." He sighed. "Mad's not the right word. I'm _frustrated._ " He looked at her gently. "But that's my problem, not yours. I apologize if the worst case of blue balls I've had in two centuries makes me a little grumpy."

She winced. "I'm sorry. I promise you're not the only one who's frustrated." Reaching over, she caressed his bicep, a gentle reminder that she was here, that he wasn't alone. The muscle flexed under her touch. "So, what's the plan?" she asked. "Kai could be anywhere."

He upended his bourbon and took a healthy swig before answering. "I don't know, maybe we'll get lucky and catch up to him just as he's opening the portal. Isn't that how these hero missions go? Good guy saves the day just in the nick of time? I wouldn't know. You'll have to check with Stefan."

She smiled indulgently. "As long as you have everything really well thought out." After a beat, she said, "Take me somewhere warm."

He raised an eyebrow, inviting her to elaborate.

"When this is all over," she clarified, "take me somewhere with sandy beaches and frozen margaritas and lots of sun. I mean, if you still want to go away somewhere with me, that is."

"Hmm, I'll need to check my schedule, see if I'm free…."

She gave him a look.

"Bikini weather it is, princess," he assured her, arm reaching across to draw her close.

She laughed and snuggled into his side, laying her cheek on his hard, warm chest. "I love you," she whispered into the soft fabric of his shirt.

"I love you, too," he whispered back and kissed the top of her head.

When she closed her eyes, she suddenly had no trouble at all falling asleep.

* * *

 _Damon's POV_

Damon's eyes slowly opened, his arms full of warm, sleepy girl. He buried his nose in the soft curve of Elena's neck and pulled her securely against him, inhaling her sweet, clean scent. When he nudged her backside with an almost painfully hard morning wood, she stirred and looked over her shoulder at him.

"Good morning," she murmured drowsily.

"Morning," he replied in a voice rough with sleep.

One of her fingers came up to explore his chin, wandering through the soft black stubble that shadowed his jaw. "Mmm, morning scruff. Sexy."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

His lips found hers. Initially, the kiss was soft and sweet, but it quickly deepened. Elena turned in his arms and slid on top of him. He cupped her ass, making sure not an inch of space remained between them. He heartily approved of the yoga pants she wore, though he'd approve of them more once he had her out of them. His hips began to thrust mindlessly between her thighs, and she moved with him, perfectly in sync. Her little fangs scraped along his tongue, and he groaned at the sweet sensation.

Bonnie's head popped out of the bathroom, and she waved a hair straightener menacingly in their direction. "Uh-uh, none of that." She disappeared back into the bathroom.

Elena rolled off him quicker than if he'd suddenly morphed into a hot stove.

Damon growled, "I am going to murder your friends."

Uttering an embarrassed laugh, Elena ran a hand through sleep-tangled hair. "Maybe I'll help." She kissed him again lightly, and it took every ounce of willpower he had not to grab her and fuck her anyway, friends within hearing range be damned. She slipped beyond his reach and said, "I'm going to go get ready for the day."

Once Elena replaced Bonnie in the bathroom, he got up slowly and made his way into the kitchen. The cock-blocking witch was making herself a cup of coffee. He ghosted over to her, and when she turned around, she jumped at his sudden looming proximity, sloshing hot coffee over the rim of her mug.

"God, what is your problem!" she snapped indignantly, sucking on a finger that had been scalded by the steaming liquid.

"Good morning, witchy, I have a question."

"And I have an answer. It's probably no."

"That's too bad, cause see I've been thinking that you being here might not be the worst thing in the world after all. How good are you at locating birds?"

Bonnie's head drew back, and she blinked owlishly. "I don't follow."

He held up the black feather that he'd snagged off his balcony last night when Kai had shown up and subjected Elena to a lust spell. For some reason not only had he kept the damned thing but he'd packed it and brought it along on the trip. "This is from one of Kai's vultures. Now I realize you can't use this to track Kai, but if you could summon the juju to do a locator spell using this feather, I'd bet the vulture doesn't fly too far from the psycho tree."

Bonnie plucked the feather out of his hand and frowned at it. "I'll see what I can do."

As she walked away, he called, "Thanks, Bon-Bon."


	16. Chapter 16

"We're driving in circles."

Damon's fingers thrummed irritably on the steering wheel. "No, we're not."

"Well, I've definitely seen that barn with the red roof before," Elena replied confidently.

Slanting a testy look her way, he snapped, "How can you even tell? We're in the middle of Bumfuck, Nowhere, and everything in this damn place looks the same: old and hillbilly-ish." They were driving through uber-rural Tennessee countryside, whizzing by run-down farmsteads and green pastures dotted with livestock, and only rarely did they pass another vehicle on these back roads.

"All I'm saying is we're going in circles." She pulled out her cell phone, checking for an update from her friends even though it hadn't buzzed recently with an incoming text. Bonnie, Caroline, and Jeremy were riding with Klaus, scouring the area separately so more ground would be covered. No word from them yet which meant they hadn't found anything either.

"Bonnie narrowed the search down to this area," Damon explained, "so assuming that her magic hasn't gone horribly awry and sent us all on a wild vulture chase, we're just gonna keep driving in circles until someone sees some kind of sign pointing us towards an unhinged witch who wants to open a mystical doorway to another dimension."

Elena slipped her phone into the back pocket of her jeans and asked innocently, "Um, like that?"

He followed her gaze out the passenger side window and spotted a roiling black mass of feathery bodies circling in the sky like an ominous tornado. "Huh, either it's VultureCon 2010 or…"

Elena picked up the thread. "Or we just found Kai."

Damon swerved the car down the first side road they came to and drove until they found an empty open field maybe a quarter of a mile from where the vultures milled about like a creepy beacon from hell. He maneuvered the car partway through the verdant pasture until the terrain grew too hilly to risk damaging his precious car. He'd just have to go the rest of the way on foot. Maybe that would give him the element of surprise, something that was always helpful when trying to kill someone.

"Let's go," Elena said and reached for the passenger door.

"Elena," he said softly.

With her fingers still curled around the door handle, she reluctantly turned back to him, jaw set at a rebellious angle that indicated she already knew what he was about to say.

He shook his head once. "You're not coming with me."

Her brown eyes widened in disbelief. "Do you actually believe that I'm going to just sit here and let you go alone?"

"I'm asking you to wait here."

"You might need me!" she objected. "I can help! Two vampires are better than one. That's just common sense."

"Please," he implored her gently.

She opened her mouth to protest, then shut it and swung her gaze straight ahead through the windshield, crossing her arms over her chest resentfully. She was wearing a snug navy blue sweater thing, and he couldn't help but notice the way her crossed arms pushed up her already perky breasts.

"I'll stay," she groused, "but only because you asked instead of clubbing me over the head like a caveman. Though I think you should at least wait until Klaus gets here."

"No, I'm finishing this now."

Scowling, she said crossly, "Fine, you get thirty minutes, and then I'm coming after you."

"Elena-"

"Thirty minutes." Unexpected steel and a large dose of Gilbert stubbornness laced her words.

He couldn't suppress a small smile. Since he didn't intend to be gone even half that long – it wasn't like he was meeting up with Kai to have tea and exchange pleasantries – there was no harm in conceding to her demand. "Thirty minutes," he agreed.

Still not looking at him, she said, "And you better not leave without kissing me."

He placed one finger under her delicately pointed chin and turned her face to his. "Wouldn't dream of it in a million years."

Leaning forward, he captured that plump bottom lip with his teeth, nibbling leisurely before moving on to nuzzle the side of her mouth. When his lips finally settled atop hers, she opened for him eagerly. He stroked her tongue with his, savoring her sweet taste. The delicate scent of sunshine and lavender filled the small interior of the Camaro, making him ache for her and wish he didn't have to go anywhere so that he could strip her naked and take her right here in his car like a horny teenager with raging hormones and no self-control.

As he pulled back, she whimpered softly in complaint and appeared utterly dazed. He knew exactly how she felt.

With a last fond look at Elena, he got out of the Camaro and walked around the front of the car, heading for the copse of trees he'd have to pass through to reach the swirling storm of black birds spiraling high in the sky. From behind a barbed wire fence a fair distance off on his left, several black and white cows blinked wet bovine eyes at the unexpected visitor before returning placidly to their grazing.

He hadn't made it very far when a car door creaked open and then slammed, followed immediately by the sound of frantically pounding feet. He whirled. "Goddamn it, Elena-"

She threw herself into his arms, silencing him with a passionate kiss. "You can't leave yet," she told him, "I don't want to wait."

He cleared his throat. "Elena, we went over this already."

"No, Damon, I mean, _I don't want to wait_."

He blinked in confusion. "I – what?" She couldn't possibly be saying what he thought she was saying.

"I want you, Damon. Right now."

His dick instantly shot rock-hard, because of course the damn thing was eager to accommodate her. His eyes widened. " _Right now_ right now?"

She nodded, full lips thinning. "If something were to happen to you…."

"Hey, no, everything's going to be fine. I got this, trust me." He flashed an arrogant smile.

Nipping his chin, she challenged mischievously, "What's wrong, then? Too shy?" She leaned back, her gaze pointedly encompassing the open field in which they currently stood with only a few grazing cows for an audience.

"Uh, no," he denied, "my modesty has never been the problem. I have none."

"Are you scared, then?" she asked, wiggling enticingly against him, staring at his lips.

Scared? Was this little minx deliberately trying to provoke him? He snorted in disbelief at her crazy accusation, then abruptly fell silent. His eyes narrowed and he cocked his head sharply to the side, regarding her suspiciously. "Is this another lust spell? Did Kai get to you somehow?"

"What?" she laughed. "No, it's not a spell. It's just me."

With a deadly serious countenance, he inquired, "Are you sure this is what you want? Because if you're just going to change your mind halfway through, you'll probably end up killing me. There's only so much a man can take." That was not an exaggeration. He had no doubt that this girl would be the death of him. One way or another.

Rather than answer him with words, she dropped down in front of him onto her knees in the green grass. His breath caught as he realized what she meant to do. She reached for the zipper of his black jeans, and before he could blink, she'd freed his swollen length and sucked him into her hot little mouth. His jaw fell as he stared down in shock. Well, that was certainly one amazingly incredible way to put his doubts at ease.

His world narrowed down to wet heat and erotic suction.

"Fuck, princess," he groaned, "that feels so good."

As she flicked and teased him with her velvety tongue, he cupped the back of her head, wrapping thick, glossy hair around his hands, not so he could control her movements – she was doing just fine on her own – but to steady himself. His knees were doing a spot-on impression of jello.

He watched as her dark head slid all the way down, his hips arching into her descent so that he hit the back of her throat.

Every muscle clenched as he sucked in a breath. Fuck, he wasn't going to last much longer if she kept doing that.

After gliding up and down a few more times, she stopped without warning and stood, jerking his leather jacket down his arms until it was completely off. He stood there unresisting. At this point, she could scoop out his innards with her bare hands and set his husk of a corpse on fire and he'd happily let her do it.

Luckily, however, she didn't seem to have anything that painful in mind. Slinging his jacket over her shoulder, she returned to his blue Camaro. She smoothed the black leather onto the hood of the car, then turned to face him and slowly stripped out of her tight jeans, rolling the material down, revealing the flare of her curvy hips, long tan legs and a pair of white panties. She hopped onto the car, using his jacket as a blanket, and rested her bare feet on the bottom of the grill, parting her knees and spreading her thighs.

Heart pounding, he wondered if this was a dream, or if maybe he'd lost his mind. Elena Gilbert couldn't really be perched on his car, a beautiful half-naked angel beckoning him with _come-fuck-me_ eyes.

Her eyebrows skyrocketed up her forehead as she inquired, "What're you waiting for?"

He didn't need to be asked twice. He eliminated the distance between them in a split-second and positioned himself between her legs. Looking down, he ran a finger across the drenched crotch of her panties, then ripped them away, stroking her slick feminine heat with a finger as she gasped.

Primitive, chaotic need clawed at him, demanding that he take her now before something happened – _again!_ – to interrupt them. It was almost impossible to fight; she'd teased and tormented him for too long – since the moment he'd met her.

"You're sure?" he asked one more time, his gaze hot on hers. "I don't have it in me to do this nice and easy." Not with the way this tidal wave of dark hunger was flooding through him and drowning out any restraint he might have had. Hunger for this girl and no other.

Hooking her fingers in the belt loops of his jeans, she yanked him even closer. "I don't want nice and easy. I want _you_ , Damon."

His eyes flared, pleased with her response. He grabbed her slim waist, anchoring her in place, and impaled her in one smooth glide. As he filled her completely, she cried, "Oh, god, Damon!" and he almost lost his shit right then and there. She was so wet. So tight. So _perfect_. The closest to heaven he was ever going to get.

His head bowed and his eyes closed while he searched for whatever shreds of control he could find. There weren't many, but he clung to them tenaciously. No fucking way was this going to be over so quickly.

Sliding her hands up his chest over the outside of his shirt, she clasped his cheeks, forcing him to raise his gaze until he was looking deep into her warm brown eyes, so full of trust and love. He could feel her trembling.

"More, please," she begged, so that remaining still was no longer an option. He started to move, thrusting, pumping, sliding in and out of her in a rhythm that made her teeth dig into her bottom lip and her head fall back in sheer abandon, long hair streaming down like a chocolate waterfall. Soft, raspy sounds escaped her as her arms wrapped around his neck, mashing those exquisite breasts against his chest. Hardly any time at all passed before she clenched around him, squeezing tightly like a fist, and bucked in his arms, shouting his name to the sky.

He stilled, giving her time to come back to herself, brushing his lips across her throat and feeling her pulse flutter wildly. She moaned and looked at him with heavy-lidded eyes. Her brow creased in consternation as a thought occurred to her. "But you haven't…you still need to…."

"Oh, I will," he promised. "Lay back."

Her hands loosened around his neck and she leaned back on her elbows. Readjusting his jacket beneath her, she flattened her spine on the hood of the Camaro, her hair spreading out around her head like a soft dark cloud. His arms hooked under her thighs, lifting her lower half into the air, angling for deeper penetration. Urgency rode him hard as he pounded into her with the savage ferocity of an animal, burying himself deeply with every thrust until he was a part of her and she was a part of him and there was no distinguishing where one began and the other ended.

Desiring that she derive as much pleasure from this as he was, he pressed the heel of one hand against the sweet spot between her legs in quick, hard circles, driving her right into a second climax. She gasped, heels digging into his jean-clad ass, breasts bouncing madly beneath her navy blue sweater, fingernails screeching across the metal of his car.

He didn't pause or even slow down this time, but powered right on through, and it didn't take long before he felt his own moment approaching, pleasure building until he feared he would spontaneously combust into flames. He released her legs and fell forward, propping himself up on his arms, pinning her beneath him and nailing her into the hood with each forceful thrust.

As she clawed at him frantically, urging him on with throaty cries, his breathing grew shallow, the movement of his hips faster. With a hoarse groan, he shattered into a million pieces as the most intense orgasm of his life ripped through him, seeming to originate from the base of his spine and emptying him out until he had nothing left.

As the spasms slowly receded, he collapsed on her with labored breaths, pressing his face into her neck, inhaling her scent. He moaned her name brokenly, and she soothingly caressed his nape, idly toying with the ends of his jet black hair, legs still locked tightly around his waist.

He lifted his head once his breathing had returned to normal and his heart had slowed its runaway pace. She grinned at him sheepishly. "You're gonna be mad."

He scoffed. "At this exact moment, I'm pretty sure that's impossible." He didn't think he could feel anything but blissfully complete and sated. And happy. He felt genuinely happy for the first time in…ever.

Holding up her hands, she showed him the obvious flecks of blue paint lurking under her fingernails. "I scratched your car."

She looked so concerned that he might actually care, he burst out laughing. "I'm never getting it fixed."

Staring down at her, a smile still tugging at his lips, he marveled at the things this gorgeous, sweet girl made him feel. For so long, he'd been dead, not just literally but figuratively. But this girl…she made his heart race and his blood sing like he was actually alive again, like he was human. He didn't deserve her, he could spend eternity trying to atone for his sins, and he still wouldn't deserve her, but it didn't matter, because she was his now, irrevocably and unequivocally _his_ , and he was never going to lose her or this feeling. Ever. He would do whatever it took to keep her. Always.

Which began with eliminating that asswipe Kai so he could never hurt Elena again.

Her willowy arms twined around his neck. "You know you're never going to get rid of me now, not after that," she vowed as if she'd read his thoughts, "and never is a very long time for vampires."

"But still not long enough," he quipped teasingly, though he meant every word.

He lay there atop her a moment longer, relishing the feel of her soft feminine curves against his lean, hard frame and how they fit together perfectly. He lingered because one, he could easily spend the rest of his immortal life right there inside her, and two, he wasn't sure if any strength had returned to his legs yet. But finally, when he'd put the inevitable off long enough – plus if he stayed, he'd just end up going round two with her – he pushed himself up and reluctantly withdrew from the warmth of her body. He put his clothes to rights as best he could, then bent and scooped up Elena's jeans. She took them from him with a pretty blush and hurriedly pulled them back on.

Once she was fully clothed again, she stood on tiptoe and brushed warm, pink lips over his, lightly like the soft edges of a butterfly's wings. "I love you, Damon. Promise you'll come back to me."

He grinned wickedly. "If you think anything's going to prevent me from returning and doing this – " he waved his hand at their highly disheveled state – "with you again, you're a crazy person."

When she didn't appear reassured, he continued, "Elena, I have loved you since the second I laid eyes on you, and I will love you until I take my last breath on this earth." He stroked a hand through her soft, dark hair and tugged gently on the silken strands. "Which won't be today, I promise."

Elena nodded reluctantly and stepped back, hugging herself. "Okay, go then, you have thirty minutes," she reminded him.

"Be back in ten," he pledged, pulling her close again and giving her one last, toe-curling kiss. Then he turned and strode away from her without looking back.

* * *

 _Hopefully, that made up for last chapter. ;)_

 _Also, hope you didn't mind indulging my fetish..._

 _I love Damon's car. :)_


	17. Chapter 17

_Elena's POV_

Glancing at her phone again, Elena checked the time since Damon had left. A whopping thirteen minutes. _Sigh._

She was sitting on the hood of his blue Camaro while she waited for him to return, and in her arms, she cradled his leather jacket which he'd left behind. She brought it up to her nose and breathed in the dark and spicy scent of his skin which clung to the supple material, recalling what had just happened on top of that muscle car.

Pink faintly stained her cheeks as she remembered how she'd thrown herself at him, deliberately pushing him past his notoriously limited self-control in order to convince him to be with her before he walked off to confront an enemy he only had a marginal hope of defeating. And she'd definitely succeeded in convincing him. She'd made him lose all restraint. He'd been as wild as an animal with her, reduced to his basest self.

And it had been _sooo_ worth it. She still felt all sore and tingly, and there was a delicious wetness between her thighs. Her lips curved up in a small smile and she inhaled deeply again, face pressed against the collar of his jacket.

And while yes, maybe, definitely, it hadn't been how she imagined their first time would go, and though she knew Damon had also had different plans – and she loved him so much for that, for wanting that for her - nevertheless it had still been … perfect. That was the only word she could come up with that even came close to how she felt.

She'd just been so hungry, so selfishly desperate for him. She hadn't even managed to get all of her clothes off or any of his. It would have wasted too much time; she'd been too eager to have him inside of her. What had then occurred had been exactly what she needed: raw, primal, hard sex with a man who aroused and satisfied all of her darkest desires. A basic connection between two people that was as vital as blood to a vampire. A clearing out of all the tension and frustration that had been plaguing them for … well, a _really_ long time. Since long before she'd transitioned into a vampire.

And she hoped he felt the same, even a little.

In the future, there'd be plenty of time to be sweet and tender, to do it every which way, slowly and with finesse. And there _would_ be plenty of time. _There would be_. Any minute now he was going to come strolling into view wearing a cocky smirk on his handsome face, making her feel foolish for worrying so much. Then, he'd sweep her off to some exotic destination just like he'd promised where they would spend every second making love and laughing and being happy together.

 _Please, please,_ please _, let that be how this all works out._

Sitting there on the Camaro, she began to fret. What was happening? Was he alright? What if he was hurt? Why did she agree to stay behind like a useless lump when he might need her?

She looked at her phone again. Seventeen minutes. Seventeen minutes of sitting here going crazy while time crawled along at a glacial pace.

She tried sending Caroline another text, telling her to hurry up, but the signal out in the middle of nowhere was almost non-existent, and she didn't think it went through.

Closing her eyes to focus her concentration, Elena reached out with her heightened senses, testing to see if she could hear anything. The only sounds that stood out were the moos of nearby cows and the flapping of feathery wings as myriad vultures continued to swarm the sky.

So, nothing. She heard nothing that clued her in as to what might be transpiring between Damon and Kai.

Then, at minute twenty-four, something finally happened. The vultures descended en masse, straight down, disappearing from sight below the tree tops, leaving behind a blue sky that was disconcerting in its abrupt emptiness.

Alright, that was it. No longer caring what she'd promised Damon, she refused to delay a second longer. Shrugging quickly into his leather jacket, she hopped off the Camaro and began sprinting across the field, heart slamming in her chest. Soon, she was nothing but a blur, leaving behind the grassy field and entering woods. She darted among trees, dodging roots and low-hanging branches, propelled forward by anxiety and fear.

Making it to the other end of the tree line, she stumbled to a halt. She'd reached another field. There was a barn in the middle of the wide open space, and the roof was covered with vultures. It was a wonder the roof didn't collapse under all that feathery weight. There had to be at least a hundred of them. Whatever, it didn't matter. She searched desperately for a sign of Damon.

When she finally spotted him, her heart stopped. A tree trunk that was easily ten feet in length and one foot in diameter pinned him to the ground, penetrating through his stomach deep into the earth. His eyes were closed and he wasn't moving. Blood darkened the area around him. So much blood. All her worst fears seemed confirmed.

Guilt clogged her veins, her nose, her throat until she thought she would suffocate. She shouldn't have waited. She shouldn't have listened to him. She should have come sooner! With all the things she should have done differently careening accusingly through her head, she darted over and fell to her knees beside him.

"Oh, my god, Damon."

His eyes cracked open. "Elena, you shouldn't be here."

Her hands shook, and her eyes stung with tears. Even though some dim recess of her mind recognized that this wasn't a fatal injury for a vampire, the rest of her was completely freaking out at the sight of a tree projecting through her boyfriend's lower torso. "What happened?"

He snorted. "Bastard wasn't happy to see me. Can you believe it?"

How could he possibly be so glib right now?

Seeing the look on her face, he assured her, "Don't worry, it's not as bad as it looks." He winced. "Though I've definitely been better."

"Oh, god, what should I do?"

"Well, for starters, removing the tree that's currently lodged in my abdomen would be great. It really fucking hurts."

Of course, what was wrong with her? Why couldn't she think clearly?

Standing, she gripped the rough bark and yanked on it as hard as she could. Despite her best efforts, she couldn't pull it out of the ground, thus freeing him. Someone - no doubt Kai - had embedded it too deeply into the earth, and all she managed to do was make Damon groan in pain as the wood freshly twisted around and scraped his insides. She collapsed back onto her knees next to him, tears blurring her vision, feeling completely useless and helpless.

"I can't get it out," she said, voice thick with frustration, "I'm not strong enough."

"Hey, Elena, it's okay. Look at me." He snagged her wrist in an uncomfortably tight grip. "Elena!" That snapped her out of it long enough to meet his gaze. Despite the pain he had to be in, his eyes were clear and insistent, though lines of tension bracketed his mouth. "You need to get out of here."

For a moment, she knelt there, slowly processing his words, then she shook her head. "No."

"Elena," he growled angrily.

"No, I can do this, Damon. I can kill Kai." And she would, for hurting Damon like this.

"How?" he demanded. "Look at me! In case you didn't notice, there is a tree in my stomach!"

"Do you trust me?"

His eyes slid shut. "Throwing my own words back in my face. Nice." He expelled a heavy breath. "If something happens to you, I swear I'll lose my fucking mind."

"Nothing will happen. You asked me to trust you, and I did. Now I need you to trust me. I can do this." She sat back on her heels, looking around. "Where…?" She trailed off, not needing to finish the question. Now that she was focused on something other than Damon's ghastly predicament, she noticed it: the coppery tang of blood, thick, intense, incredibly tempting, wafting around her like a physical entity. There was a lot of death emanating from inside that barn, leaving no doubt as to Kai's whereabouts.

"Did you see it? Did you see where he's keeping his heart?" she asked.

"No." Damon still hadn't released her wrist. His eyes were open again, impotent fury swirling in their blue depths. "This is insane. You're absolutely infuriating."

She bent and meshed her mouth with his. "I need you to let me go," she whispered against his lips. "I'm going to find it, and I'm going to end him."

He snarled something inaudible but released her.

"Thank you," she said.

As she stood up, he called, "Elena?"

She turned back, and he offered her a crooked smile. "You look cute as hell in my jacket."

She smiled back. "I love-"

"Don't," he interrupted. "Tell me when you get back."

"Okay," she promised, and though she hated to do it, though every cell in her body wanted to stay by his side, she left him.

Making her way to the barn, she stopped before its closed sliding door.

With her hand on the door handle, she hesitated. Despite what she'd said to Damon, she didn't know what she was going to do. What _could_ she possibly do when Damon, a much older, stronger vampire, had failed? When Kai had neutralized him as easy as pie?

She'd figure it out. She'd just have to do whatever it took. Squaring her shoulders with determined resolve, she slid the door aside just enough to slip through and went in.

The inside of the barn smelled musty and stale, aside from the taint of freshly-spilled blood. Dust motes danced in the dim interior, the only light entering through a couple of poorly-boarded up windows. The meager light illuminated a pentagram carved in the middle of the earthen floor. It was old, clearly predating the events of today. On the ground next to it squatted Kai, currently occupied with killing someone. Other recently murdered bodies lay inside the pentagram. More bound and gagged victims-to-be waited outside it. Guarding them were several zombies, and a single vulture perched nearby on a hay bale.

The urge to strike immediately was almost overwhelming, but she somehow resisted, knowing that it wouldn't do any good. The only way to kill Kai was to destroy his heart, and until she found it, any attempts to slay him would be fruitless. So, she waited and made no effort to conceal herself. When Kai eventually noticed that she'd entered, he wiped the bloody knife off on the shirt of the person he'd just murdered and stood up. He exuded a calm aura, utterly unfazed by her unexpected appearance.

"You look like you're having a rough day," he observed, tone completely at ease as if he wasn't covered in blood and in the middle of massacring innocent people to fuel his dark magic.

"It's about to get better," she snapped, meaning once she'd killed him. "What the hell are you doing?"

At her question, he looked down at his hands as if he'd only just realized they were drenched in blood. He glanced back up and, with a smile worthy of a serial-killer, explained, "Casting a spell so I can open a portal to another dimension. Need a lot of death to power that sucker." His eyes narrowed. "Surely, you saw how I shish-kebabed your boyfriend out there. I'm surprised you still came in here. Doesn't speak very highly for your intelligence."

"I was hoping we could talk." Not really, but anything to stall until she figured out how to stop him.

"Mmm, no, I don't think so. Sorry, kind of in a time crunch." Abruptly, his face brightened. "But you know what? I think this could work still out for the best. These kinds of things are always more fun with an audience. Sit. Stay." He wiggled a finger in her direction.

She sat, though she tried her best to fight the magical compulsion. Approaching, he crouched beside her and traced a bloody finger along her cheek bone, leaving a red smear in his wake. Hot breath fanned across her face as he remarked, "I didn't kill your boyfriend, because I've decided I'm going to take him with me once I'm done here. It was awfully convenient of him to show up like this. I've never had a friend before. Now I'm thinking I should bring you along, too. Friends share everything, right? Maybe he'll share you. Bet I can make him."

Her stomach roiled at his implication, and shuddering violently, she fought the urge to vomit. "You're disgusting, Damon is _not_ your friend, and ever hear of a breath mint?"

Kai smiled a cruel, amused smile. "I see why Damon likes you. So full of spunk." He rose and returned to the pentagram.

"Don't worry," he said, tossing the words casually over his shoulder, "soon I'll have the portal open and my heart will be safely hidden on the other side where no one will ever be able to find it or use it to kill me. Then, I'll be deathless and unstoppable. And lucky you, you get to watch." Grabbing a hold of another terrified person, he dragged them within the pentagram.

Even though it was super cliché, she snapped, "You're not going to get away with this."

"Wrong. Spoiler alert: I always get my way." Without missing a beat, he resumed the slaughter.

She squeezed her eyes shut tightly and covered her ears. She refused to watch; he couldn't make her watch. Doing her best to block out the muffled screams and the sickening wet sounds of flesh parting beneath the blade of a knife, she forced herself to think. She had to find a way out of this, a way to stop him. A deathless Kai couldn't be unleashed on the world. He'd be responsible for too much evil, too much senseless death. Plus, he didn't deserve to get what he wanted after everything he'd done.

"Elena?" Caroline's voice filtered in amidst the gory sounds. "Klaus and I are out here. How can we help?"

"Wait, okay? I don't know where his heart is hidden yet," she whispered.

Kai inquired, "I'm sorry, did you say something?"

Her eyes cracked open and she glared at him but remained silent. He shrugged and enthusiastically went back to his gruesome work.

Okay, time to be clearheaded and think. She had to do this. If she could just figure out where his heart was, she could come up with a plan.

She visually scanned the barn under the assumption that it had to be easily accessible.

Kai wore a gray long-sleeve shirt and fitted jeans, which left nowhere to conceal a heart on his person. There were no boxes or jars or other obvious containers in sight. So where –

The vulture adjusted its position, drawing her attention as strands of hay fell to the ground under its shifting talons, and it emitted a raspy hiss. Just like that she knew. She knew where Kai had hidden his heart.

Her gaze swung back to Kai, now finished sacrificing all of his victims. He was chanting while an ominous whirling black dot appeared in midair, a rift between worlds, slowly expanding.

No, no, _no,_ she couldn't let this happen, but what could she do? She couldn't move! What good was knowing where his heart was if she couldn't get to it?

Then she detected an uneasy hoot from the rafters, and she could have wept with relief. There was an owl in here, who probably just wanted to eat the mice scurrying about in the hay, unaware that its hunting ground had been invaded by an evil witch until it was too late.

Not wasting a second, because there wasn't a second to waste, she closed her eyes and did as Damon had taught her on his balcony, sending her Power out and seizing hold of the owl, commanding it to do what needed to be done.

Like a lightning bolt shooting unexpectedly through a clear sky, the barn owl hurtled silently down from the high rafters, enormous curved talons extended toward its prey. The brown and white shape struck the vulture from behind before the black bird even had an inkling it was in danger.

Kai looked over and yelled in rage, too distracted to maintain control over Elena, and even the portal collapsed inward and disappeared as he lost control of his spell. He jumped up and ran towards the colliding birds. However, Elena beat him to the vulture, using her vampire speed so that it wasn't even a close race.

"Caroline, help me!" she screamed, hands locking onto the vulture which was unequivocally deceased. Its spine had been broken by the owl's attack, rendering it instantly dead.

She ripped the bird open, black feathers peppering the air as she dug through its corpse frantically. There, _there_ , she located a heart far too big to belong to a vulture. Kai's heart. She held it up and looked around for Kai, prepared to defend herself somehow.

But there was no need. Klaus had answered her summons for help and was holding the witch in a brutal embrace, a slowly-grind-your-bones-into-dust embrace. Both of Kai's arms were bound behind his back, and one of the Original's hands covered Kai's mouth and nose so the young man couldn't cast any magic or even hardly breathe. Kai struggled against Klaus's implacable strength, eyes bugging out, shouting in her direction, but the Original's hand muffled whatever Kai was trying to say in a futile attempt to save his life.

She glared at Kai with a fury that stunned her with its burning ferocity. This person had come to her home and blown up a dozen council members, people she'd known her entire life. He'd hurt her repeatedly and terrorized her friends. And he'd used Damon's love for her as leverage to force Damon to horrifically murder innocent people. A cursory scan unearthed no mercy in her heart.

Remembering Damon's promise to devour Kai's heart right in front of him, she snarled, "This is for everyone you've killed. This is for the terrible things you did to me and my friends. But mostly, this is for Damon and what you put him through."

Then, she sank her fangs into the pulsing organ. Kai's lifeblood dripped down her chin in crimson streaks. With the first bite, he screeched in agony, writhing madly to escape Klaus's grasp, though he might as well have been trying to bend steel for all the good his efforts afforded him. Elena took another bite, and his screams intensified, though his frantic struggles grew weaker. Another bite and another, and each time Kai became visibly weaker, until she swallowed the last bloody morsel, and he fell silent and stopped moving altogether.

Klaus released Kai's limp body. It fell to the ground, lifeless and no longer capable of hurting anyone. As though their strings had been cut, the zombies also collapsed to the ground with audible thumps, freed from the evil magic that had reanimated them.

All of a sudden, Elena realized that not just Klaus but Caroline and Damon were also in the barn with her, and they were all staring at her. Klaus looked impressed. Caroline's eyebrows had disappeared somewhere above her hairline. And in the barn doorway stood Damon, an inscrutable look on his darkly handsome face. Klaus must have freed him.

She stood there nervously, wondering what on earth he must be thinking about the fact that he'd just witnessed her eat a human heart.

She blanched. Oh, god, she'd eaten a human heart. That hadn't really sunk in until this moment. _Blech_. Completely gross.

He cocked his head and a panty-melting grin stretched his lips upwards. "You're a fucking bad-ass."

She smiled tremulously. "Yeah?"

"Yeah. And sexy. Really fucking sexy."

"Yeah?" she repeated, happiness swelling in her. She should have realized that Damon of all people would never judge her. He always accepted and loved her for exactly who and what she was, and nothing she did would ever change that. She knew that like she knew the sun would rise each morning, like she knew her name was Elena Gilbert.

He approached her and grabbed her bloody face in his hands, still grinning. "Yeah." He kissed her, a quick, hard kiss. "You ate a heart for me. If that isn't true love, I don't know what is."

Basking in his approval, she teased, "Is that all it takes to convince you that we're real?"

Ice blue eyes glinted naughtily. "I can probably think of a few other ways." He kissed her again, leisurely this time, their warm breaths blending, tongues intertwining.

His dark, intoxicating scent enveloped her, made her heart thud erratically. Her hands went to his chest, stroking the hard muscles, but when they moved lower and encountered the bloody rent in his shirt, she started and wrenched away, worry returning full force. "Take off your shirt."

He inclined his head in Klaus and Caroline's general direction, clearing his throat loudly and pointedly.

Elena poked him in the sternum. "So I can see that you're all healed with my own eyes."

"Mhmm," he smirked, though he did as directed.

Once he'd swiftly peeled off the blood-soaked shirt, she smoothed her hands across his clearly defined abs, smearing through blood, discovering only flawless pale skin beneath to her immense relief.

"See? Fresh as a daisy," he assured her.

 _Not quite_ , she thought, studying his face. He was always pale, but right now he looked extra white and exhausted, his sculpted cheekbones more prominent than usual. Dark shadows marred the skin beneath his blue eyes. Apparently, his body had possessed enough reserves to heal his wound, but now it was depleted and required blood to return to full strength.

"You need blood," she said.

"I need _you_ ," he corrected, going in for another kiss. "Though some blood would probably help, too."

"Drink from me," she breathed into his mouth.

Her words gave him pause. He drew away, eyes flickering to her throat. Oh, he definitely wanted to, she could tell. Reaching up, she combed her fingers through the black locks tumbling haphazardly onto his temple.

"Just to tide you over until we can get you something fresh," she entreated. Damon tugged her flush against him, and she went pliantly.

"Okay," Caroline chirped, "and that's our cue to go wait outside."

Klaus protested, "But it was just getting interesting!"

"Now!" She grabbed his hand and dragged him out.

Alone at last, Damon's head dipped, and Elena experienced an electric jolt as his warm, firm lips settled on the elegant curve of her throat just above the collar of his leather jacket. All the air escaped her lungs, and she glided both her hands through sexily mussed raven hair. His fangs pierced skin and muscle straight through to the vein, and as he drank her down, desire flowed through her like warm honey. She was more than glad to do this for him, willing to give him anything he needed.

A hand came up and kneaded her breast, an expert caress that sent tingles shooting through her. His hips rolled suggestively against her, now noticeably aroused. Oh yeah, he was feeling better. Her blood had perked him right up.

When his fangs withdrew from her neck, his mouth drifted up to her ear. He nibbled on it gently and purred huskily, "Now if I remember correctly, someone isn't wearing any panties."

The hand at her breast descended, and a single flick of his fingers popped open the button on her jeans, and those skillful fingers burrowed beneath her waistband, confirming his theory.

As he rubbed against her sweet spot, she moaned. They'd just had sex earlier, so one would think her body would be at least partially sated and content. But nope. If anything, she wanted him even more. The ache spreading through her was even more unbearable and more urgent than before. It made no sense.

She jerked back and grabbed his hand, pulling him over to the far corner of the barn where hay bales were stacked up in uneven piles. No longer was she concerned with the carnage behind her or the fact that Klaus and Caroline waited just outside or anything except that she needed Damon inside of her in the worst way or she was going to lose her mind. She wanted to erase the memory of what had just happened and replace it with a pleasurable one.

She pushed him down onto a bale of hay, ordering, "Sit!"

His shiver-inducing blue eyes narrowed. "You're a bossy little thing."

She straddled him and shoved her fingers through his hair, rough now, yanking at the lushly thick strands. "And you talk way too much." She kissed him, and his hands, hot and hard, roved across her back up and under his leather jacket, rolling the hem of her sweater up above her breasts. He took a nipple between his lips and tongued the stiff peak. She was suddenly extremely grateful that she had neglected to wear a bra.

Abandoning his hair, her hands dove for his fly, but he captured them before she could undo it.

"Easy there, tiger," he said, lips twitching as he fought off a laugh when disappointment clouded her features. "Earlier, there was impending life-and-death stuff looming over our heads, and you blindsided me – not a complaint, mind you – and I was…," he frowned, "…out of my mind with wanting you. But now?" His frown disappeared. "There's no need to hurry."

Her body vehemently disagreed. "Unless Caroline and Klaus come back," she pointed out with a pouty expression.

"If they do, there will be two more bloody corpses on the ground over there."

"Damon!" she scolded playfully, about to say something else, but then his mouth was back at her breast, the tip of a fang grazing her nipple ever so softly, and she forgot what she was going to say, and _oh god_ , it didn't matter anyway, just as long as he kept doing _that_.

She rubbed shamelessly against him, and he groaned, "Princess, let me see you naked."

Not wanting to part from him but desperate to do as he asked, she tore herself away and removed his jacket and ripped her sweater over her head. She kept her gaze on him as she slid her jeans down, thrilling at the way his eyes glazed over and his sensual lips parted. He was looking at her like she was the sun, the moon, and every star in the sky.

Cool air caressed her heated bare flesh as he slid off the hay bale and dropped to his knees in front of her, murmuring, "God, you are so beautiful."

Hands sliding up the backs of her thighs, he pulled her close. He pressed a kiss against the soft, tan skin just below her navel, causing her insides to quiver. Mouth trailing lower, his tongue darted out and flicked between her legs, tasting that place that yearned just for him.

"Oh, that's…wow," she breathed, grabbing the back of his head and holding him there. At first, he nibbled just enough to tease and tantalize, his tongue striking like lightning against her core until she was trembling and ready to jump out of her skin, desperate for release. What he was doing was both amazingly glorious and agonizingly frustrating.

"Please, Damon," she begged, and finally he tasted her fully, sucking fiercely so that pleasure built within her to a feverish degree and her blood turned to molten lava in her veins and she exploded, flashes of light twinkling behind her eyelids.

"My legs!" she gasped as they trembled and threatened to buckle.

Deftly, he collected her and drew her down into his lap, his back propped against a bale of hay, his hardness fitting snugly against her center. Their mouths fused together. Her hair fell around them like a dark, private veil so that it felt like they were the only two people in the world. She tasted herself as their tongues rolled together, savoring, consuming.

Not wanting to wait anymore, her body already begging for more, she unfastened his pants, freeing his erection. She held him steady in one hand while he cupped her ass cheeks, supporting her as she rose up and then slid all the way down on him.

For a few heartbeats, she remained motionless, no longer kissing him, just letting her body adjust to his size, so deliciously full she almost couldn't stand it. His head fell back, exposing his throat, and she leaned in and scraped her fangs on his adam's apple, tongue lapping eagerly at the blood that appeared on his pale skin.

He groaned and whispered raggedly, "There aren't words for how good you feel, Elena. For what you do to me."

Encouraged, she began to move, riding him up and down, hands exploring his lean, perfectly muscled physique. His head came back up, and his mouth fastened onto a nipple, tugging and sucking in time to the rhythm of their hips.

She rode him until her breaths grew short and choppy, and her nails dug into his shoulders, cutting through skin.

"Are you gonna come, baby girl?" he rasped, hands still cupping and kneading her ass.

"Yes," she moaned.

"Good. Do it. Come for me." He pumped his hips up into her one time, intensifying her bliss, hitting her so deep, just right.

"Damon," she gasped as a white-hot orgasm rocketed through her and the ground dizzily fell away.

While she slowly came back to earth, he flipped her beneath him onto his discarded jacket which was conveniently spread out over the hay-strewn ground. He disappeared briefly from between her legs as he divested himself of his pants, then he returned, her body welcoming him back as he surged inside of her, his mouth pressing possessively over hers.

His rhythm was fluid, wickedly demanding, and her nipples rubbed deliciously against his chest every time he moved over her. Her hands glided across his back, reveling in the feel of his muscles tightening and flexing as he plunged in and out of her, creating a maddening friction that led to a return build-up of that bone-melting pleasure. Gradually, he picked up speed, his thrusts growing harder, more relentless. She tore her mouth from his and bit into his shoulder, mouth flooding with the rich, heady taste of his blood.

He fisted her hair and pulled her head back, forcing her to look up into seductive blue eyes heated with desire and framed with long black lashes. Her breath caught in her throat at the sight of him. He was so beautiful, so perfectly carved from marble.

"Mine," he growled.

She nodded, helpless to do anything but agree.

"Say it!" he demanded, punctuating his words with another forceful thrust. She was undone by the vulnerable desperation on his features. There was none of his usual arrogance, only a powerful, unguarded longing to hear her say the words back to him.

"Yours," she panted, "always yours."

Her confession made him groan her name and find his release, the throbbing sensation filling her and carrying her off. She clung to him as wave after intense wave of pleasure swept through her, and for a third time she was catapulted into the heavens.

As she blissfully floated back into her body, an air of languid satiation surrounded them. Her eyes were closed in utter contentment, and she felt Damon raining velvety soft kisses on the tip of her nose, her cheeks, her forehead, her chin, pretty much every inch of her face. Her lips curled into a sweet, happy smile and she wrapped her arms around his neck, wishing fervently that this moment never had to end.

Unfortunately, the real world eventually intruded. The barn door creaked open, and Caroline asked, "Is it safe to come in now? Seriously, you two are worse than rabbits that just got out of prison."

Damon maneuvered so just his head stuck out past the stacks of hay, and he flashed Caroline a wickedly insincere smile. "Barbie, have I ever told you how out of all Elena's friends you are my very most favorite?"

Caroline's return smile was just as false as she replied, "That's so sweet, just like you're my favorite Salvatore."

"Can you just give us a minute, Care, please?" Elena called meekly.

Caroline threw up her hands. "Fine, we'll be right outside. Hurry up."

Once the sound of Caroline's receding footsteps and the scrape of the barn door closing signaled that they were alone again, Elena shifted reluctantly under Damon. "We should probably get going."

"Yeah," he agreed, "I need to get you into a bed so we can do this properly. For hours, every which way."

Her stomach fluttered. That sounded amazing. "Yes, let's do that." She started to wiggle out from under him, looking around for her clothes, when he said, "Elena?"

The seriousness in his voice made her freeze. "Yeah?"

The corners of his eyes tightened as he cleared his throat. "I don't deserve you, I know that, but I promise I'm going to do whatever it takes so that you never regret being with me. I need you to know that."

She smiled up at him. "I do. It won't always be easy, we'll have our ups and downs, we'll fight and get frustrated with each other, because you're completely impossible - ," she giggled as he playfully swatted her behind, " - but we'll get through it all, and we'll be happy. I believe that." Brushing a fingertip gently along his bottom lip, so soft and full, she whispered, "I love you, Damon Salvatore."

"And I love you, Elena Gilbert," he whispered back. Then he leaned down and kissed her, because there was nothing left to say.


	18. Chapter 18

_One Month Later_

 _Damon's POV_

They hadn't even made it half-way down the drive way when the front door of the Salvatore boarding house burst open.

"Elena!" Caroline came running and enveloped her friend in a huge hug. "You're back!" Then, she pushed Elena out to arm's length and aimed a mock-glare at her. "Seriously, you were gone for a whole month, and I only got two emails? Not even a phone call?"

"I know, I'm sorry, we were…," she blushed as her eyes locked with Damon's over her friend's shoulder, "kinda busy. But-"

"Whatever." The blonde girl waved her excuses away. "It doesn't matter. Come on, I have so much to tell you. A lot happened while you were gone." She hustled Elena inside, and the two girls disappeared.

With a happy smile, Damon entered the house at a more sedate pace. He dropped his and Elena's luggage down onto the foyer floor and strode into the living room. As soon as he saw who was sitting on one of the red antique couches, his smile vanished, but he wasn't truly upset. He'd just spent the last month in the tropics with a very sexy Elena, whom he loved more than anything, and no one could derail his current buoyant mood. Not even Katherine.

"Kitty-kat," he said scornfully by way of greeting, "here I was hoping Stefan would've kicked you out by now."

Katherine's look was smug as she fluffed the fringed pillow under her arm. "Nope, quite the opposite."

"Ugh," he responded with a shudder while pouring himself a glass of bourbon.

Tossing a mass of dark, curly hair coquettishly over one shoulder, she held up a clear whiskey glass. "I'll have one of those, too, though I'd prefer it if you used your stash from the library."

He scowled. "Have you been stealing my good bourbon?"

"If you didn't want me to steal it, you shouldn't have left it where I could find it." She smirked. "You've always been terrible at hiding things."

His answering smile didn't reach his icy blue eyes as he stuffed the crystal top back into the decanter. "Go get your own damn drink."

"So rude," she chided, lowering her glass. "Have you already forgotten how I helped you and Elena out?"

"Nope. Nor have I forgotten how you then pretended to be Elena in order to trick me into getting into my bath tub naked with you."

"Well, if I'd known you'd still be so butt-hurt about it…." She grinned. "I'd still have done it. You two were hilarious."

"Bitch," he growled under his breath.

"I heard that."

"You were supposed to."

She leaned forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "So, I'm curious, what makes you so certain you and Elena will last? I don't really see a happy ending for you two."

He knew Katherine meant it to be a jab, that she was just sowing her manipulative seeds of doubt, but at the mention of Elena, his features softened. "Because she's just as crazy as I am."

The way she'd avenged them all and vanquished Kai had proven that. He couldn't picture her as she'd looked that day in the barn in Tennessee, strong, fierce, wearing his leather jacket, blood smeared on her lips and chin, without acquiring an instant, urgent hard-on. This occasion was no exception, and he shifted uncomfortably and cleared his throat. "And because she's the love of my life."

Katherine affected a wounded look which didn't fool him in the slightest. "Wasn't that long ago you thought _I_ was the love of your life."

He raised his glass to his lips. "I didn't know what a heartless, backstabbing slut you were. Turned out you didn't deserve my love. Elena does." Whether he deserved hers was another matter entirely. Downing the rest of his bourbon in one gulp, he relished the fiery burn as it blazed a path down his throat and settled warmly in his stomach. "Good bye, Katherine."

On that cold and dismissive note, he stalked out of the living room and followed the sounds of clattering pans and boiling water into the kitchen where he discovered his brother whipping up something that actually smelled half-way decent.

Setting his empty glass down, he rested his ass against the counter a few feet away from his brother and asked, "Really, Stef? Slumming it with the evil one? Isn't that a bit low, even for a rebound?"

Stefan set down the ladle he was using to stir pasta, put a lid on the pot, and turned. "Do you really want to trade 'really' insults about the girls we've chosen to date? I'll win."

Damon scowled and crossed his arms. Guess Stefan still needed some time to get over losing Elena.

Stefan continued, "I'm with Katherine now, and you're with Elena. End of story. How about we leave it at that."

Damon raised a dark brow and said tentatively, "Okay, I'll take it."

At that moment, Klaus entered the kitchen carrying a wine bottle in each hand. "Well, I, for one, am certainly relieved." He clunked the bottles down on the middle island. "I dreaded the thought of listening to you two bicker for another century or two over my doppelgangers."

Curling his lip derisively, Damon snapped, "Oh, come on, he's here, too?"

Klaus smiled broadly, showing even, white teeth. "Since you and Elena rode off into the sunset together, I've been keeping my old friend company."

"That's great and all," Damon retorted, "but I'm back now, so you can get lost."

Pursing his lips, Stefan interjected, "Or, I don't know, maybe you two could play nice, become buddies or mates or something." He pulled a cutting board out of a drawer and began to slice some carrots with sure, swift strokes. The large, sharp knife he used caught the light and flashed.

Damon eyed the knife in his brother's hand uneasily for a moment before sidling out of reach. Stefan had been known to stab him with pointy objects a time or two in their rocky past. It didn't help that the vegetables Stefan was chopping were uncomfortably phallic-shaped. He sneered, "I hope you're joking, because that's never gonna happen."

Klaus's smile became downright wolfish. "Funny, I said the same thing about you and Elena."

"Alright, _children_ , enough," Stefan said warningly, waggling the knife to get their attention.

Damon scooted away another step from his brother. Just in case. He said to Klaus, "You know, Katherine's sitting right out there. Shouldn't you, oh, I dunno, go kill her or something?"

"In honor of my renewed friendship with Stefan, I've elected to overlook Katerina's numerous, grievous transgressions against me, granted that she never again does anything to rouse my ire."

Covering his mouth with one hand, Damon stage whispered to Stefan, "Translation: he's sparing Katherine because a certain perky blonde vampire asked him not to do anything that would hurt her friends. This hybrid's completely whipped."

A begrudging smile broke out across Stefan's face. "Katherine doesn't exactly qualify as one of Caroline's friends."

He gave his brother an _are-you-really-that-stupid_ look. "No, but you do."

Klaus interrupted. "I assure you, it was my decision."

With raised eyebrows, Damon imitated the sound of a cracking whip and included a snapping wrist for emphasis.

The Original snarled, "You'd better be thankful Elena's one of Caroline's friends. Otherwise, I'd rip out your tongue and feed it to a pack of stray dogs."

"That would actually be a blessing," Stefan responded, cutting off Damon who had opened his mouth to deliver a devastatingly witty retort. Setting the knife down, he angled himself back to the stove and lifted the lid on his pasta. Steam billowed up. "You've been home for five minutes, and already you've managed to piss everyone off."

Damon smirked. "Just restoring balance to the universe, Stef. You're mopey to a nauseating degree, I'm a dick, and he's…," his gaze shifted to Klaus and he frowned as he contemptuously inspected the Original, then brightened when the right words finally occurred to him, "an annoying blowhard."

At that moment, Caroline sailed into the kitchen in a flurry of teal blue skirts and bouncing blonde waves. "Klaus, look what Elena brought back from her trip!" She held up two garishly bright pink t-shirts. Both were dotted with assorted tropical flowers. "One's for you!"

Klaus's head drew back, and he appeared mildly horrified. "Oh, she … shouldn't have."

"Aww, Klausie-poo, you're gonna look so adorable," Damon mocked.

Caroline skewered him with a death-stare, then went on, "We'll be matching! You'll wear it for me, right?" She batted her long lashes.

Klaus swallowed hard before pasting a smile on his face. "Of course."

Looking away from the vomit-inducing lovebirds, Damon refocused on his brother who was wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. Clearing his throat, the younger Salvatore began, "It's good to have you back, brother, despite what's between us right now. In the spirit of peace, you and Elena are welcome to join us for dinner-"

At that moment, Elena's voice infiltrated Damon's heightened hearing. "Damon, come find me."

So, she wanted to play a game, did she? _Game on, Miss Gilbert._ He no longer perceived a single word leaving Stefan's mouth.

Clapping his hand down on his brother's shoulder, already turning toward the exit, he lamented, "Sorry, brother, we can finish this hallmark moment later. There's a girl that needs me right now."

He sped out of the kitchen and up the stairs, eagerly anticipating what would happen once he discovered Elena's whereabouts. The obvious place to start looking was his bedroom. He pushed open the door and – _bingo_!

His heart stuttered in his chest when he beheld the vision awaiting him. Elena was sprawled across his bed flat on her stomach, facing away from the door, lovely, graceful legs kicking casually as her delicate feet alternately dangled over the edge of the bed. The best part was she was completely, magnificently nude.

Frozen in the doorway, gaze riveted on the prominent display of her generously rounded ass that was the most extraordinary shade of sun-warmed caramel, he exhaled with a touch of awe, "Naughty girl."

Eyes sparkling, she shot him a saucy grin over her shoulder, a devastating, irresistible mix of innocent angel and sinful temptress. "Uh-oh, you found me."

After kicking the door shut, his feet walked of their own volition towards the bed. Before he got there, he'd shed all the clothing on his person, a certain portion of his anatomy already pointing due north. He pounced lightning-fast and pinned her beneath him, holding her captive, a sleek, powerful panther stretching over his prey. Sweeping her hair away from her neck, he lowered his lips to the supple softness on her nape, filling his lungs with the gentle fragrance of lavender.

He murmured, "Zero points for difficulty, but a million points for awesomeness."

She shivered as his breath blew across her skin. "I wanted you to find me. I missed you."

He emitted a dark laugh. "I missed you, too. Can you feel how much?" He ground the evidence of his desire into the cleft of her ass. It had been at least a few hours since they'd last had sex on the plane ride home, and it was time to rectify that situation.

She giggled. "That seems pretty serious. You should probably do something about it."

"Oh, I intend to. I'm going to fuck you until you scream so loudly that everyone in this house knows exactly what we're doing."

He expected her to shyly protest, but instead she dared him, "Then, do it."

"In due time. Patience is a virtue, Miss Gilbert."

She made an impatient sound low in her throat. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm not in the mood to be virtuous right now!"

He grinned. No, his sweet Elena was no demure, inhibited maiden between the sheets but a greedy, demanding little hellcat who came complete with claws and fangs, and he loved it. He also loved making her wait, drawing it out, driving her crazy until she was frantic for him. Of course, inevitably, he ended up just as impatient as her, if not more so, but it was fun. And worth it.

He began a slow, deliberate ascent down her body, tracing her spine with velvety strokes of his tongue. When his lips caressed the slight dip where her back met her hips, goose bumps broke out across her tan skin. He ended his journey with a single, searing kiss on her tail bone.

"Damon," she pleaded.

"Hmm?" He nipped an ass cheek, then followed with soothing kisses.

" _Please_."

"Please what?" He nipped the other.

"You know what!" She sounded downright testy. Adorable.

He drifted back up and caught an earlobe with his teeth. When he pressed his swollen arousal lightly against the warm, wet place between her legs, they both inhaled sharply at the intensity of the contact. Somehow, he found the words to ask, "Mmm, this? Is this what you want?"

"Yes," she moaned. Her hips quested backwards, seeking all of him. Despite her impatience, he could hear her heart racing with the thrill of his teasing, could smell her arousal drifting all around him, could feel her muscles trembling under his torturous onslaught.

"Yes what? What do you want?" he whispered, continuing to probe softly at her core, placing an open-mouthed kiss on the side of her throat.

"I want…" She trailed off on a sigh of pleasure, unable to concentrate on anything but what he was doing to her.

Abruptly, he rose upright on his knees and, wrapping his arms around her middle, pulled her up straight with him so that her naked back was flush with his bare chest, her plush little ass resting on top of his thighs. He palmed both of those splendid breasts jutting forward so perkily, squeezing and fondling the sensitive flesh. In a low, devilish voice, he commanded, "Tell me what you want."

"Damon!" she protested, undulating against him in a way that nearly drove him insane. Her head fell back, long, dark hair tumbling in wild disarray down his back and chest. He raised a hand to her mouth, tracing the soft skin. Her little tongue darted out and swirled around his finger as he slowly inserted it between her pink, luscious lips, stifling a groan at the heat and wetness that lay within. His hips drew back and when they rocked forward, his hard length was again just barely breaching her feminine core. She was more than ready for him, and the thought of simply plunging into her was a powerfully tempting one.

"Say it," he grated. "What do you want?"

Her mouth popped off his finger. "You, please, please, I want you." Her hips gyrated in a way designed to draw him in deeper. His eyes rolled back in his head, but he somehow managed to avoid cooperating.

"Like this?" he ground out through gritted teeth. He rocked against her, gliding through the creamy moisture coating the vee of her thighs while she squirmed.

"Yes! God, Damon, yes!"

He could make her climax purely from this and had plenty of times before. But his tenuous control was stretched to its limit, and he didn't feel like waiting any longer. He thrust up and buried himself inside her.

Sweet Christ, she fit him so perfectly, like she'd been custom-made solely for him. She was raw, breathtaking, rapturous bliss.

She gasped and dug her nails into the forearm he had clasped across her front, arching into his powerful body as he moved in and out of her from behind. One of her slender arms rose, and she caressed the sharp angles and planes of his face, his chiseled jaw, his full, sensual mouth. Then her fingers tangled in his hair, lightly raking his scalp, and she turned her face just enough so that their mouths met, joining in a searing, hot, hungry kiss.

Sliding a hand down her taut, flat stomach, he danced his fingers around her sweet spot, generating a light, teasing friction that had her panting for him with quick, short breaths.

"Don't stop, please, don't stop," she begged, hands clutching him tighter, pulling him closer.

"Stop? I could fuck you forever, princess," he crooned gently against her lips, as he maintained a pleasurable rhythm between her legs. "Feels so fucking good."

Bending his head, his teeth touched her shoulder. He delivered a gentle love bite before biting down for real, piercing her flesh and swallowing the exquisite blood that spilled bright and hot down his throat. She bucked wantonly back against him and came with a wild cry. As she writhed in his arms, he licked away any blood remaining on her skin and whispered husky words of praise, telling her how beautiful she was, how incredible she felt, how he'd never want anyone but her, how he loved her, adored her, cherished her.

When he grew still, intending to give her a moment to regain her bearings, she looked back at him accusingly. "I said don't stop."

He grinned softly and thrust hard and deep again, not wanting to disappoint his girl.

As he repeatedly drove into her, pelvis slapping against her perfect ass, he lost himself in the welcoming softness of her body, helpless to deny his burning need for her, for the sight, the scent, the feel of her. Pressure coiled low in his belly as his muscles tensed, and when his own release finally erupted, it radiated through every inch of his body, forcing his head back. He felt Elena shattering again in his arms at the same time, her sexy little scream blending with his harsh breaths.

Once the aftershocks had subsided, he sagged back on the bed, resting against the head board, pleasure humming through his veins like a drug. He brought Elena with him, cushioning her head on his muscular shoulder, her back to his chest, white sheets tangling around their legs.

As she made herself comfy settling back against him, he closed his eyes and half-smiled, savoring the peace and comfort of their post-coital intimacy. One hand lay on the curve of her hip. The other trailed up and down her rib cage, occasionally straying to worshipfully caress the soft underside of a full breast.

Moments like this one frequently made him wonder how he and Elena could possibly be real, how he could be possibly be this happy. Sometimes, he thought he'd died and gone to heaven. That thought only lasted for a split-second though. When Damon Salvatore died, he definitely wasn't going to heaven. So if he wasn't dead, that only left one other explanation. This was real, and Elena'd actually chosen him.

Honestly, he was afraid to get used to it, being with her. He was still half-waiting for someone to jump out of the woodwork and yell, "Just kidding! Damon Salvatore never gets the girl!" Still half-waiting to fuck it all up beyond repair somehow, because that's what he did.

God, he really hoped that wasn't going to be the case. His arm tightened possessively around her curvy form. He didn't know how he'd lived so long without her, or what he'd do if he lost her.

It was baffling how this one girl could affect him so strongly, but she did. He'd spent almost two hundred years being completely bitter and jaded about life and especially women, and yet with this girl, everything felt brand-new again. He loved her with a scorching passion and wild intensity like he was some sort of starry-eyed school boy again. She captivated him on all levels: mentally, emotionally, physically. And the sex…. The sex was mind-blowing, addicting, a fucking revelation.

Apparently, Elena concurred. Having finally attained the ultimate cuddling position, she went completely limp on him and breathed out, "Oh, god," and it was the best compliment he'd ever received.

Completely deadpan, he said, "Just Damon's fine. Though you're not the first to notice the resemblance."

She grabbed an unused pillow and swung it at his head. He intercepted the pillow just before it smashed into his face and settled it behind his head with an exaggerated sigh of satisfaction. He grunted when she playfully elbowed him in the stomach. She had some wicked boney elbows.

With a gentler touch, she swirled her fingers through the light dusting of black hairs on his inner thigh and inquired, "Do you think sometime today, after we do _that_ a bunch more, you could take me home? I need to unpack, and I should really do the whole responsible big-sister thing and check in on Jeremy."

Resting his chin on top of her head, he frowned. "Home … to stay?"

He hadn't really thought about what would happen once they got back, and he realized he'd just assumed that Elena would stay with him. But if that wasn't what she wanted…

She shifted sideways and glanced up at him shyly with those dark, bewitching eyes. "Well, yeah, unless … I mean, if there was somewhere else I could stay, I probably wouldn't be averse to that." Her look turned hopeful.

His frown deepened. Why was she beating around the bush? Could she really doubt whether or not he'd want her to stay with him? They'd been attached at the hip for the last month, barely leaving each other's sides for any reason. He didn't want that to change. That was probably unhealthy, but he couldn't care less. He hadn't gotten nearly enough of her yet. He doubted he ever would. He wanted her around all the time within easy reach, even if it was just so he could gaze upon her or run his fingers through her silky hair. He wanted to fall asleep with her every night and wake up next to her every morning. His craving for her was beyond reason; he had to have her or he wouldn't feel whole, so there was no need to think about his answer: _Yes_. Emphatically, whole-heartedly _yes_.

Misinterpreting his scowl, she started to sit up. "Never mind, I shouldn't have said anything. I can ask Caroline. I'm sure she won't mind giving me a ride-"

"Stop," he said brusquely and dragged her back against him. "One, you're not going anywhere just yet. And two, if it were up to me, of course I'd want you to stay." He released a deep breath. "But it's not up to me."

She slid on top of him, straddling his abs, and peered down at him through long, shiny lashes. "Are you asking me to move in with you?"

He reversed their positions so abruptly she squealed and giggled, wrapping her legs around his lean waist. Looming over her with heavy-lidded, lustful eyes, he replied, "I'm definitely asking you not to go somewhere else."

He must have said the right thing, because she drew him down for a kiss which quickly evolved into another bout of full-on ravishment. While she cradled him between her thighs, he entwined his fingers with hers and pressed her hands into the pillow over her head. He slowly rocked them both to another orgasm, his gaze never once wavering from her beautiful face.

Afterwards, as she dozed drowsily in his arms, she murmured, "I am going to have to go see Jeremy some time. Just to visit."

"Okay," he acquiesced, tenderly tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.

"But … it can wait a little while longer." She snuggled more firmly against him.

He smiled and kissed her forehead, selfishly glad he didn't have to let go of her just yet.

* * *

 _Just a short epilogue left after this, some light, silly fluff to tie the whole_

 _story together._

 _Thanks for reading!_

 _XOXO,_

 _~JK~_


	19. Epilogue

_**Epilogue**_

 _Several Months Later_

The pillow was soft under his cheek and the sheets slid like satin over his skin as he stirred, automatically reaching for Elena to pull her close. When his hand curled around empty space, he cracked open an eye only to discover that she wasn't in bed where she was supposed to be.

Rolling onto his back, he scrubbed a hand down his face as early morning sunlight streamed into his eyes. "Elena?"

"Here," she responded distractedly. Bent over in front of his dresser, she was rummaging through one of the lower drawers. Clad in nothing but one of his black button-down shirts, her luscious little ass and the backs of her shapely thighs were fully visible.

"Elena," he complained despite the tantalizing view, "come back to bed."

"Hold on, I'm coming." She shot a glance over her shoulder. "Today's your birthday."

He groaned.

"I know you were hoping I'd forget, but I didn't."

"Please tell me you're _not_ throwing me another party. Remember what happened last time? Zombies running amok … a murderous psycho-witch … Caroline."

She laughed, an enticing sound that made his hands itch to grab a hold of her and throw her back in bed. "No party, I promise, but I did get you a present."

Stretching his arms over his head caused the white bed sheet to skim down his torso, revealing ridged abs and a happy trail of black hair that directed the eye to an impressive erection still hidden from view, though clearly delineated, under the sheet. "Mmm, is it whatever I want?"

She gave him an inquisitive look, shutting the drawer, a tall, cylindrical package in hand. "What would you want?"

As he pretended to ponder, she hopped back into bed beside him. This close, her clean, floral scent, so deliciously feminine, saturated the air all around him. "Lots and lots of sex," he said.

She wrinkled her brow. "We already do that anyway." She handed him the heavy, wrapped package. "Here."

The ache to be inside her obliterated any curiosity he possessed, and after only a cursory glance, he set the gift down. Then, he pulled her on top of him so that she straddled his hips, rising over him. The sight of her took his breath away. Sleep-tousled locks of hair fell gleaming around a face devoid of any make-up, and her warm, tan skin practically glowed, gilded as she was by the morning light.

Only a single button half-way down her shirt was fastened. He made short work of it and glided his hands up her sides, parting the black fabric and revealing her breasts. He kneaded the lovely mounds of flesh, softly plucking peaked nipples. The sheet barely covering his waist vanished, and his hard arousal came into contact with her silken heat.

"Why does it sound like you're complaining?" he asked, hands descending to her slim waist in order to hold her in place.

"I'm definitely not … oh," she gasped as he began to work his way inside her snug little core, slowly, inch by inch, "not … complaining …."

"Good, because all the consequence-free sex you could ever want is the number one perk of having a vampire boyfriend."

Her pink lips quivered with laughter, but only another gasp escaped her as he sank deep. He moved slowly at first, enabling her to relax into his easy rhythm. High, full breasts wobbled enchantingly with each movement, and her mesmerizing whiskey-dark eyes darkened with desire.

Continuing to flex his hips up into her with deep, skillful strokes, he stretched a thumb out and teased that most sensitive part of her body. She moaned in response and skimmed her delicate hands up his strong, lithe body until she was leaning over him, pressing supple breasts against his chest. Her lips, soft as flower petals and honey-sweet, brushed over his, accompanied by sexy little nips and licks. He opened his mouth and their tongues met in a seductive dance.

Cupping the delectable swell of her ass, he picked up his leisurely pace just enough to make her gasp his name. She sank her little fangs into his bottom lip and sucked erotically at the blood that flowed, blood that burned like fire through his veins.

As always, she reduced him to nothing more than overwhelming, intoxicating, pure sensation. His thrusts increased until she was writhing atop him, and he heard the short panting breaths that signaled her impending climax. Her skin was hot, flushed with passion, heart thundering wildly in her chest.

"Oh, my god," she whimpered into his mouth.

"It's okay, baby girl," he rasped soothingly, "I'm right there with you."

Spine arching, she tightened convulsively around him, and he couldn't stave off the inevitable any longer, hurtling over the edge with her. Every muscle taut with lust, he drove up into her one final time, shuddering and coming apart at the seams.

For some time afterward, they lay peacefully together, her face nuzzled into the side of his neck, their bodies still joined. With reverent hands, he stroked the graceful lines of her back through the satiny black button-down shirt she still wore. As their heart rates calmed, she shifted over to the side, tucking herself under his arm and hooking an ankle around his calf.

Fully satiated, at least for the moment, his eyes slid shut. Mere seconds away from dozing off again, Elena poked him, causing him to grunt in protest. She said, "Hey, your beauty sleep can wait. You still need to open your present."

Lips twitching upward into a smile, he obligingly picked up the package again and regarded it curiously. Then, he looked over at her with a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. "Let me guess. It's the diary entries you wrote filled with all the dirty little fantasies you had about me while you were with Stefan, and you're going to let me read them so I can make them all come true."

A flush crept across her face, and she blurted out indignantly, "No!"

One dark, slanted brow arched. "Don't act like you didn't. You think I couldn't smell how wet you got every time you were around me? How wet you still get?"

She opened her mouth, then shut it. Her rosy cheeks deepened another fifty shades of red.

"You're blushing," he observed out loud just to be an ass.

"Yeah, because you're being ridiculous!"

"Tell me," he coaxed gently, rolling onto his side and propping his head on his bicep. "Tell me what naughty little thoughts you have about me."

At the word 'naughty', her gaze dropped to his mouth which was curved upward in a sinful smile. She wet her lips with the tip of her tongue and sucked in a soft breath. Her eyes grew wide, almost completely round. Then, she shook herself slightly as if she'd realized she was staring. "No!"

He made puppy dog eyes. "But it's my birthday."

"You hate birthdays," she retorted.

He could sense her weakening and stuck out his bottom lip.

Flustered, she shook her head. "No, they're silly. You'll laugh at me."

"I won't," he vowed, replacing the dramatically sad look with a gentle smile and reaching a hand up to caress the curve of her cheek. "Whatever you want to do, I want to do."

Though he wouldn't have thought it possible, her blush intensified even more. She drew her lower lip between her teeth and chewed delicately. "I mean, I guess there are a few things that I've thought might be fun to try."

"Do tell." He had no intention of letting this go, not when he was so keenly interested in her answer.

Elena took a deep breath. "Well, I've always thought a man in military uniform is super sexy." Despite her hesitant speech, she ran her fingers over his arched ribs down to the sexy V cut over his hip bone, a light touch that raised goose bumps in its wake. "Maybe you could dress up like a soldier – any era would be fine. And I could be the sweetheart waiting faithfully at home ready to give her war hero a proper homecoming."

He'd loathed his brief stint in the army, but for Elena? "Done. What else?"

Warming up to the subject, she eagerly informed him, "We need to get a faux bear skin rug that we can have sex on in front of the fireplace in the living room." She paused with a thoughtful look. "And the library. And the kitchen."

"In every room of the house," he assured her, beyond charmed by the vivid image his brain conjured of a nude Elena rolling around on a bear skin rug, tan skin and chocolate brown hair warmly suffused with fire light. God, she was so adorable. Even her fantasies were sweet and wholesome. For the ten billionth time, he fell in love with her all over again. He added, "Oddly enough, I think there's already one in the attic. Okay, what else? There's gotta be more."

She shook her head. "Nope."

Icy blue eyes narrowed. "Lie. Out with it."

"It's stupid," she protested weakly.

"Uh-uh, it's too late now to be self-conscious around me. Spill."

Stumbling over the words, she divulged, "It's just…I thought it might be fun if you pretended like you'd never," she ducked her head and refused to meet his eyes, "you know, been with a woman."

That was definitely not what he'd been expecting. His lips quirked and incredulity laced his voice. "You want me to pretend I'm a _virgin_?"

She nodded shyly, still not looking at him.

"Why would you want that?"

Her gaze slowly rose to meet his as she explained, "Well, if you'd never slept with anyone before, you wouldn't know what to do, so it'd be my responsibility to teach you." When he remained silent, it emboldened her to keep going. "I'd have to teach you exactly how to please me in meticulous, graphic detail. I'd have to teach you how I like to be touched here." She cupped one of her breasts. After a moment, her hand slid lower between her legs. "And here."

His gaze was riveted on her demonstration.

"What do you think?" she asked huskily. "It could be fun, right?"

"I think that you should keep trying to persuade me, though I'll admit I'm pretty much sold on the idea."

Delighted, she wrinkled her nose. "Yeah? You'd really be my student and let me teach you how to pleasure a woman?"

"Hell yeah, in a heartbeat. I'd do anything my hot teacher told me to."

She smiled impishly. "Oh, really? Then open your present." She gave him an expectant look.

To please her, he picked up the gift again, though not before warning her to hold onto that thought because they were definitely doing the whole Elena-touches-herself-while-he-watches-and-pretends-to-be-a-virgin thing in the very near future. Holding the gift up to his ear, he gave it a good shake.

"Damon!" she objected, "it's fragile."

He ceased agitating the tube-shaped package and scrutinized it, surprised to feel a glimmer of trepidation – or was that excitement? - growing in his chest. The present was precisely wrapped in shimmery dark blue wrapping paper. A red bow rested on the round lid. Elena had obviously put a lot of care into its presentation, and he found himself strangely reluctant to ruin her wrapping job.

He stared at it for some time, making no move to open it until he felt Elena shift impatiently next to him. Only then did he rip through the wrapping paper and pry away the lid to see what his present contained.

Its contents, two tall, lumpy, newspaper-wrapped bundles, were cradled protectively in a Styrofoam-shipping-peanut embrace to prevent them from banging together and thus incurring damage.

He withdrew one of the bundles, and as the newspaper fell away what emerged was a really expensive, sixteen year old bottle of bourbon. His favorite. He grinned, admiring the dark amber color of the liquid inside, before carefully placing the bottle back in the box.

The other bundle turned out to be a crystal whisky decanter. His blue eyes widened as he realized it was Waterford crystal, exquisitely crafted and obviously a custom job. On top, a crow in mid-flight clutched the spherical stopper in its talons. A second crow sitting on a tree limb looking back over its shoulder was etched into the actual body of the decanter. The whole thing sparkled brilliantly as the clear crystal caught and reflected rays of sunlight.

Damn, she knew him well. As he replaced the elegant vessel next to the bottle of bourbon which was no doubt destined to find its home therein, he reflected that this was easily the most thoughtful, amazing present anyone had ever given him – not that there were many competing precedents.

With an anxious expression, unable to hold her peace any longer, Elena asked, "Do you like it?"

He sniffed and wiped away a pretend tear. "I love it." Setting his present aside, he pulled her into a deep kiss, tongue thoroughly perusing every nook and cranny of her mouth, hands tangling in her hair. "Thank you," he said softly when they came up for air.

"You're welcome," she smiled.

They kissed again. Then, while tracing the shape of his mouth with one finger, she murmured, "You know what this means, right? The bar's been set really high for when it's my birthday."

He grinned, nipping her fingertip. "Challenge accepted."

"Alright," she announced in an abrupt change of subject, "now it's your turn."

"My turn to what?"

"To tell me _your_ fantasies."

He shrugged lightly and shook his head to indicate that he didn't have any.

Brows drawing together, she pouted, "I told you mine. It's only fair."

He ran his fingers down her jaw, marveling at the softness of her skin. "They've all already come true."

With an indulgent smile, she told him, "No, you can't just do that. You don't get to just say something so obnoxiously romantic and think that lets you off the hook."

"Why not? It's worked before."

Sighing dramatically, she muttered, "Ugh, fine, I'll let it go. That _was_ obnoxiously romantic."

"And true," he added.

She laughed and tried to brush some errant raven tendrils off his forehead, but they immediately, stubbornly resumed their delinquent wandering across his temples. "You really are impossible. Remind me again why I put up with you."

One corner of his mouth lifted and he rolled on top of her. "Easy. Because I'm sexy as hell."

Though she rolled her eyes heavenward, seeking patience in the face of his smug masculinity, her voice was full of nothing but affection when she admitted, "Yeah."

His lips whispered down the slim column of her neck. "And because I rock your world in bed."

"Yeah."

Going lower, his tongue delved through the valley between her breasts. "And because you're madly in love with me."

She arched and gasped. "Yeah."

Sliding back up, he pressed a tender open-mouthed kiss against her lips.

She whispered, "Happy birthday."

"Best birthday ever," he declared, and he meant it.

He still would have meant it even if they didn't spend the rest of the morning and early afternoon in bed making love repeatedly – which they did. He still would have meant it because Elena Gilbert, this one amazingly brave, stubborn, resilient, compassionate girl, loved _him_ , and he loved her and he always would. She was _his_ , the greatest gift he could ever hope for.

So, yes, he spoke truthfully when he said that this was the best birthday ever, and all he'd ever want was a thousand more exactly like it.

 _ **The End**_

* * *

 _So, I'm finally done. Whew, lol. :)_ _Yeah, yeah, I know I got silly at the end there, but I figure they deserve a little silliness after everything I put them through. This story came about because it amused me to imagine scenarios in which Damon and Elena were constantly being thwarted in their attempts to consummate their relationship. I also wanted to make them darker together than they're normally portrayed in the tv show. I hope no one was upset by my personal interpretation of the characters – any of them, not just D & E. I freely admit to exaggerating the traits and attributes that I like or that were convenient for my story while minimizing the ones I don't particularly like or that were inconvenient._

 _I freely admit to doing the same with certain details in my story. For example, at the beginning, I make Damon's car a '67, even though it's a '69. However, it makes me happy to pretend that Damon's car is the same year as Dean Winchester's Impala, and that's the only defense I have, but I'm sticking to it, lol. :) Additionally, I also claim in an early chapter that Damon has never tasted Elena's blood before, even though I know he bit her when he was suffering from the werewolf bite at the end of season 2. Again, my only defense is that, well, he was out of his mind and delirious, so I'm choosing to pretend that he doesn't remember clearly or at all …. which is possible, right?_

 _Anyway, I wrote this story purely because it was fun, and I hope that reading it was at least a little fun, as well. I also want to say that I'm extremely grateful to anyone who took the time to react or respond in any way to my story. I appreciate all the reviews. They've made me a better writer, and they certainly help keep the creative juices flowing. Anyway, I think I've reached my rambling quota for the day. Thank you so much for reading, you're awesome._

 _XOXO,_

 _~JK~_

 _P.S. I think I'm beginning to work on an idea for a new D/E story, so we'll see how that turns out. :)_


End file.
